Harry Potter and Shadows of the Great Dragons
by Greater Avenger
Summary: Post OotP. Ages ago, the great dragon protectors that once safeguarded the world suddenly vanished. Eons later, Harry runs into one of them, and they have a common enemy: Voldemort. But what mysterious past are these dragons hiding? And why return now?
1. The Craziest Plan

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all characters from the Harry Potter books are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. These stories are for pure non-profit personal enjoyment. Only the story plots and original characters are mine.

Chapter One

The Craziest Plan...

Harry James Potter, central figure to the ongoing struggle between the self-proclaimed Dark Lord and the rest of the world, sat on the bed of his small room, deep in thought, and perfectly isolated from any news of the outside world.

Harry had been home for a few weeks now, and during those incredibly boring weeks, he had come to realize certain facts about his life at Privet Drive.

First and foremost, he was being watched. Whether it was the ever so slight clanking sound of an invisible wooden leg on the pavement, or the plethora amount of clumsy kids with funny hair color that seemed to need to pass by his house every so often, he knew beyond a doubt that he was being watched.

The second thing he came to realize was that his aunt and uncle seemed to be under some directive to let him out as little as possible. Had this been any other summer, Harry would have found this fairly consistent with his relatives' normal behavior. However, this summer, they were trying to imprison him with much more subtle and gentle methods, even going to the trouble of buying him a computer to keep him busy (well, technically, they bought a new computer for Dudley, and forced his cousin to give up the old one to Harry). If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say they have received "instructions" from the Order to keep him where the Order can protect him the easiest.

Thirdly and most frustrating of all, Harry had realized that the Order was going through his mail, filtering away any news or information that might upset him. He came to that realization after his subscription to the Daily Prophet was mysteriously ruined to the point of illegibility by what seemed like rain and mud, during a week of prolonged dry weather.

That particular edition of the Prophet was reporting, as Harry had learned later, on the unexpected takeover of Azkaban prison by the Death Eaters. They had not simply broken out their comrades from the prison. Oh no. They had actually taken over the ancient and dilapidated castle and fortified it, strengthening the keep into an impregnable bastion of evil. On hindsight, why nobody saw that one coming was beyond Harry. After all, Azkaban was located on a hard to reach island, and the ancient fort-turned-prison already house an incredible number of criminals and dark creatures. It would have been as easy as a flicker of the wand to transform a humid and uncomfortable cell into a cozy and warm room. Though whether Voldemort would bother providing or even allow such comfort for his minions was unknown to Harry.

As Harry sat on his bed contemplating all of this, he became more and more frustrated with the entire situation. The guilt he had felt at Sirius' death had long been replaced by the familiar and resentful feeling of being kept in the dark. The more he thought about it, the more Harry realized that most of the fault for Sirius' death lies with Dumbledore and his so called sense of righteousness. After all, had it not been Dumbledore who kept the prophecy from him? Had it not been Dumbledore who assigned Snape to teach him Occlumency, knowing how Harry despised the vile teacher? And had it not been Dumbledore who saw it fit to not inform Harry about Voldemort's intentions about the prophecy? In fact, wasn't it Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard alive (to some, but no longer to Harry), who, through his failure to control his own school, allowed Harry to be in the greatest danger he'd ever been? Would Sirius be still alive had Dumbledore been more forthcoming with information and more assertive with his authority? No matter how calmly and logically Harry thought about all those questions, he always came back with the same answer for all of them. Yes.

Initially, Harry didn't like the thought of blaming Dumbledore for what he perceived as his own stupidity, thinking that he must still be stricken with grief and looking to place the blame on someone else. But Harry has had much more time to dwell on the matter during the few weeks he's been back, and he came to the uncomfortable conclusion that he, Harry, acted in the best possible way he could have under the circumstances, and that besides Voldemort, the second biggest reason for Sirius' death was Dumbledore. After all, had the vision of Sirius getting tortured been real, could Harry have lived with himself if he didn't go rescue his beloved godfather? And did Harry not try the best he could to block the visions, under the incredibly unhelpful tutelage of Snape, assigned to him by Dumbledore? Harry did not even blame Snape all that much, since the potions professor had been sincere and extremely forthcoming about his apathy for Harry since day one. What he could not get over was how Dumbledore, despite all his implicit and more vocal expressions of his desire to protect Harry, decided to consciously put Harry with a professor who hated him, and kept vital information from Harry that could have saved him much danger.

That thought made Harry feel extremely uneasy. After all, up until last year, he had looked upon Dumbledore as a role model and, to some degree, as a father figure. But the reality of things can no longer be denied. He, Harry Potter, has no control over his own life. All that he knows, all that he does was at the discretion of Albus Dumbledore. And he, Harry Potter, was fed up with it. If he was prophesized to defeat the Dark Lord, then he would do it in his own terms, and not as a pawn in some manipulative old man's deadly game of chess.

Tomorrow, Harry will start to live his own life. And the Order and the Dark Lord be damned!

………………..

Harry James Potter awoke the next day feeling exceptionally happy with himself. Today was the day he will put into action his plan to break free from these people who have essentially locked him up for his so called "protection". _What have they actually protected me against?_ Thought Harry bitterly, memories of the dementors from the previous year flashing in his mind.

He had the perfect plan all cooked up. In order for him to escape from the watchful eyes of Dumbledore and the deadly eyes of Voldemort, he will have to make it so they won't bother looking anymore.

Unfortunately, in order to put his inane plan into action, he will have to obtain an extremely hard to come by creature, a mimic. Harry has only a vague idea of where he can possibly procure such a rare and dangerous creature, and the trip to the place would certainly be dangerous, especially for the famed Boy-Who-Lived. But at this point, Harry was beyond caring.

Knowing, from his own observations about clunking noises on the pavement, that today was one of the days that someone else besides Mad-Eye Moody kept watch on him, Harry simply slipped on his invisibility cloak and headed out. Walking several streets away from his house, and still wondering how the heck did he manage to slip out so easily with all the wards that were supposed to be protecting him, Harry stuck his wand out and hailed the Knight Bus. Flipping his invisibility cloak over so as to disguise himself under a normal looking cloak, Harry hurriedly got on the bus and paid Stan his fare, and responded in as low and raspy as a voice that he can make that he wanted to go to the Leaky Cauldron.

Half an hour and five extra bruises later, Harry gingerly got off the bus, silently cursing the idiots that created the accursed vehicle. Deciding wisely that he'd attract less attention invisible than as a cloaked and mysterious figure, Harry once again flipped his cloak (right side out). He waited a few minutes for someone to come out of the leaky Cauldron so that he can sneak in unnoticed, and headed straight for the magical brick wall and the alley beyond it.

Contrary to all his other visits here, Harry didn't even bother looking around at all the new and flashy merchandise on display in the stores. Rather, he focused his attention on avoiding bumping into people and headed in a beeline toward Gringotts. Amazingly (or perhaps and indication of the darker times), Diagon Alley was fairly deserted, and Harry made his way in front of Gringotts without any hassle.

Once again, displaying a phenomenal amount of clairvoyance, Harry decided that he didn't want to find out what would happen to people who try to sneak into a goblin guarded bank under an invisibility cloak, and thus flipped his own over to act as a normal cloak once more. As he entered the cavernous halls of the building, he felt several curious pairs of goblin eyes on him, but no one came to stop him. After all, it wasn't that unusual to see hooded characters in a building that kept, among other things, strange items of all sorts.

As Harry approached one of the free tellers (who was watching him with a look that Harry swore could burn through solid steel), he realized that he'd made a catastrophic mistake in this well planned trip: he forgot to bring his Gringotts' vault key! Gulping nervously, Harry still approached the teller with all the confidence he could muster. _Maybe they can let me in without my key this time?_ Harry thought naively in a fit of panic. _I am, after all, Harry Potter. They would recognize me, right?_

Deciding honesty will probably get him the farthest, or at least, not get him in trouble, Harry quickly explained his plight to the teller, taking care to split his cloak just enough to reveal his famous scar. The goblin, clearly not impressed, explained in an almost boring tone that the only way to get into Mr. Potter's, or anyone's vault, was to have a valid key or, if the owner of the vault had set it up, a blood pass.

'A blood pass is essentially a test of your lineage using a drop of your blood', explained the goblin calmly in response to Harry's obvious question. 'They are usually used for family vaults, as it would be easier and more secure than handing out many keys.'

Unsure if his parents actually bothered to set up this feature, Harry artlessly asked whether there is a method to find out.

'Yes yes', said the goblin, definitively bored now. 'Follow me, we have a test set up to see which vault your blood can access.' Clearly, this wasn't the first time someone asked that question.

Harry covered his face as best as he could and followed the goblin to a side chamber, where a basin, filled with a clear liquid, was built in the middle of the room.

'Drip some of your blood in the basin, if you please. There is a pack of needles on the side, should you need one.' Commanded the goblin in a tone that clearly indicated that Harry'd better do it.

Harry picked up one of the needles and pricked his own finger. He then squeezed the said finger and let a few drops of his blood drip into the pool. The blood did not get diluted by the clear liquid, as Harry, and, judging from the soft gasp next to him, the goblin had expected. Instead, it turned more and more of the clear liquid into a bloody color, and slowly but surely, coalesced into a number.

'8!', exclaimed Harry puzzled. That is not the number of his vault.

'8!' exclaimed the goblin. . That is not the result he had expected.

Harry turned to him, giving him a questioning look. The goblin proceeded to explain: 'well, to be honest, sir, I thought you were some kind of fraud pretending to be Harry Potter. We get quite a few of those these days, so I didn't think this test would actually result in anything. But who ever you are, you have access to one of the oldest vaults in our establishment. It would be my honor to bring you to it, sir.'

Harry, not too big on people fawning over him because of his fame, was not keen at all on having this goblin accompanying him to this mysterious vault, though he doesn't seem to have many options. He was about to acquiesce when, out of the corner of his eye, he recognized a goblin from his very first visit here, walking by in the hall.

'Hey, Griphook!' Harry yelled, remembering clearly the name of the very first magical being he came into contact with. The said goblin looked at him, apparently amazed at a non-goblin calling out his name, and quickly made his way toward him.

'Yes?' asked Griphook, unsure of what's going on.

Turning to the goblin that brought him in, Harry commandingly said: 'I wish to have Griphook accompany me to the vault, if that's alright with you.'

The said goblin had a disappointed look on his face, but tacitly nodded his head. 'Of course.' Turning to Griphook, he continued: 'His vault should be number eight.' And with that, the goblin left.

A bit confused on what just happened, Griphook nevertheless said in a very professional tone: 'Come with me then, mister…?'

'Potter, Harry Potter.' Harry replied. 'And I would appreciate it if you kept my visit here quiet.'

Griphook simply nodded and walked at an amazingly fast pace toward the wheel-carts, clearly almost excited at the prospect of visiting an old vault.

'Say, Griphook, I don't know if you remember me or my vault number, but I am pretty sure it's not number eight', said Harry, catching up to the goblin. 'So, eh… are you sure there wasn't a mistake?'

'The basin is never wrong', replied the goblin without looking at Harry. 'Vault eight must be your ancestral vault. The other vault you're referring to might only be for fast deposits and withdraws.'

'Ah, I see.' Said Harry, not seeing too much at all. His confusion must have slipped into his tone, for Griphook, without any prompting, proceeded to give a bit more explanation: 'Vault eight, most likely your ancestral vault, was keyed to your blood. The basin has a record of all vaults using blood pass, and, according to its records, recognized you as the rightful owner of only one vault, number eight. This other vault you speak of is not in the basin's records, and most likely was just recently opened for convenient transactions, and most certainly is not opened with a blood pass.'

'Ah, I see.' Repeated Harry as they stepped into one of the chariot carts, less confused this time.

Forty minutes and five dragons later, Harry and Griphook finally stopped in front of a very dusty and old looking vault with the number 'VIII' clearly etched on the door. Beyond that, the vault looked fairly normal. Judging by the two sets of foot imprints on the dusted floor, Harry could tell that only a man and a woman had been here sometime in the past twenty years.

Harry stepped out of the cart and needed a few moments to stabilize himself from the wild cart ride. Griphook looked as unperturbed as ever. 'How do you feed the dragons all the way down here?' asked Harry, trying to make small conversation while waiting for his vision to stop turning.

'By cart', was all Griphook gave in way of response. Clearly, Griphook was not mesmerized by the name of Harry Potter, though Harry can tell that he wasn't being impolite either.

'Well, let's open this thing!' said Harry, after he was sure that the two figures of Griphook had merged back into one.

'Please put your hand on the door. There will be a small sting while the door takes your blood, don't withdraw your hand.' Instructed Griphook.

Harry did as he was told, and after being stung, quite deeply, the door finally opened onto a room almost as big as the great hall of Hogwarts. Besides the piles of gold and jewels that formed into mountains reaching the high ceiling in some places, Harry could see an array of wands, swords, bows, armors, cloaks, and shields neatly ranged along the wall. Portraits of people more or less resembling Harry were hung higher up on the wall, and golden and silver chests were lined up in a few neat rows amid all the mountains of gold. After a few minutes during which both Harry and Griphook stood agape at the titanic treasure in front of them, Harry slowly stepped into the vault and gathered some galleons from the nearest pile of gold into his bag.

'Well, I'm all done here. Let's go.' Said Harry, stepping out of the vault.

'What? That's it? You're not going look at anything? There is a whole museum in there!' exclaimed Griphook, almost yelling, his professional composure obviously lost.

'Eh… yeah, I guess I could. But, I don't have much time today.' Said Harry, a bit taken aback by the goblin's sudden lack of composure.

Turning back, Harry reverently walked toward the stash of weapons, mostly out of curiosity. He recognized the crests of some of the more noble alliances in history on some of the shields, and most of the swords were highly polished, and looked quite deadly, though apparently not magical. However, what drew Harry's attention was a seemingly broken sword, old and rusty. Upon closer examination, Harry saw that the sword was not broken. The handle was intact, while the other end was hollow and appeared to be a cavity where the blade part of a sword can be inserted. Looking around, Harry did not see any blades by itself, and simply shrugged and moved on to the wands. There were all sizes of wands, with a name displayed underneath each, obviously the wand's wielder's. Remembering all the times he got disarmed, and also of his plan for later today, Harry decided to take one of the smaller, easily concealable wands, knowing it will come in use very soon.

He then glanced at the cloaks, which were obviously all magical. Examining the descriptions underneath each, Harry decided to take one that would make his ultimate task of the day a bit easier to achieve, the Gray Cloak of Shadows. The cloak, made of a non-threatening gray material, was charmed to always conceal the upper part of the wearer's face in the shadows of its hood, no matter how much light were shone on the wearer from whatever angle. It also allowed the wearer to blend into the shadows more easily, though nowhere near as effective or versatile as an invisibility cloak.

With that done, Harry glanced at the portraits a bit more closely, but could not find one of his parents. He took a mental note to commission one as soon as possible.

Finally, Harry headed out of the vault once again, and this time, Griphook did not object. They silently made their way back to the surface. Harry thought about all that he'd seen in this new vault, and took another mental note to ask Remus Lupin about the Potter family history the first chance he would get.

'Say Griphook', started Harry on their cart trip back. 'I need to leave some important documents concerning my money, and also get some muggle currency once we get back. Could you take care of all that with me? I'd rather keep the number of people who knew I was here to a minimum.'

Griphook simply nodded, still concentrating on the tracks their were traveling at the moment.

………………..

It was almost noon when Harry finally made his way into his ultimate objective of the day. With gray cloak over his head, Harry Potter, second most brilliant symbol of light next to Albus Dumbledore, warily made his way down the shady and perilous corridor known as Knocturn Alley.

Glancing around furtively, Harry was able to find what he wanted after only a few minutes of search. Gathering his Gryffindor courage about him, he nervously stepped into the store with the sign "Zabani's Bestiary" hung crookedly above its entrance.

'Ah! Welcome, young master!' a rather joyous voice greeted him. 'What might I do for you today?'

Harry looked at the man closely. Besides the fact that he resembled one of the Slytherins in Harry's own year, the man was exibiting a cheerfulness that should be illegal in this part of the town.

Nevertheless, he was Harry's best bet for what he wanted, so he simply got to the point: 'I need a mimic. Would you happen to have one?'

The man was obviously a bit taken aback by this strange request. But managed to recover quickly: 'Ah. Those do not come at a cheap price, my young friend. And I only take cash. Show me that you ha…'

'Do you have one here and now?' Harry cut him off, deciding to play the tough and rich customer.

'Why you are in luck. I just received one yesterday.' Came the reply, cheerful as ever.

'How much?' Harry asked, without bothering to look the man in the eye.

'500 galleons, cash.' Said the man, emphasizing the last word quite a lot.

Harry deftly flipped open his bag, showing the glowing gold coins he has inside. Quite frankly, Harry was getting tired of carrying that much gold around, and wondered briefly how he managed to toss a bag of 1000 galleons to Fred and George at the end of his fourth year.

'This way' said the man, cutting into Harry's musings.

They went into the back of the shop, where a multitude of creatures were housed (Harry even saw what looked like a dragon egg stashed carefully in a corner). Finally, they came to a cage with a small kitten in it, though the cage looked big enough to contain a gorilla. Harry gave the man a questioning look.

'Ah, you want to verify the merchandise, eh? Well, I don't blame you.' The man said, still fairly cheerful, and obviously misinterpreting Harry's look.

The man then proceeded to look the kitten straight in the eyes and reached out a hand for the kitten to touch. As soon as the contact was made, the kitten started to change shape, rapidly growing size. In a flash, an exact duplicate of the storeowner was standing in the cage, holding the real owner's hand.

The owner then took a familiar looking kitten out of a small cage, obviously the original, and repeated the morphing process. Once the mimic returned to the size of a manageable cat again, the man turned to Harry and smiled.

'As you can see, healthy and functional. Good enough for ya?' said the man, ever cheerful.

'Yes, this will be satisfactory.' Harry replied, keeping the amazement out of his voice. Though he knew exactly what a mimic was supposed to do, seeing it in action was quite another thing.

'Of course, you know that it cannot simulate the mental capabilities nor the magical abilities of the subject, right? No matter what you make it mimic, it's not gonna get smarter than your average house pet.' Said the man. 'But I bet you can still get a rise out of it. They mimic submissive girls pretty well.' Concluded the man with a wink.

Harry blinked a few times before realizing what the man was implying. Of course! That's what most mimics are usually used for, and hence their illegality. Harry was dumbstruck. For an incredibly brief moment, he found himself imagining how to make the mimic look like… Harry caught himself just in time, and mentally shook the thought out of his head. Trying to keep all emotions out of his voice, he tossed his bag of galleons to the man and simply said: 'I will take it. Count out what you need. I won't be needing a cage.'

After a lengthy count of the coins, Harry left the store, a small, blindfolded kitten held securely in this arms, wrapped loosely inside his invisibility cloak.

Now comes the craziest part of his so far brilliant plan.

………………..

Walking back into Diagon Alley, Harry carefully took the gray cloak off, and strode into the sunlight. Several gasps and a few cries of 'It's Harry Potter' were heard amidst the thin crowd. Hoping he was not making a giant mistake, Harry slowly walked back into the Leaky Cauldron, and onto the muggle streets beyond.

Sure enough, soon, the footsteps of someone following him could be heard. Hoping the person trailing him was from the correct faction, Harry carelessly made a sharp turn, making it look like he was taking shortcut through one of the darker passages behind a few buildings. Sure enough, the footsteps followed, and not at all silent. Harry quickly spun around, and was shocked to see the face of Bellatrix Lestrange sneering back at him. This new turn of events was definitively not in Harry's plans. Here was the woman who killed his godfather. Should he not stay and fight? _No. Later._ A more logical part of his brain told him.

Harry's initial shock was evident on his face, and gave a genuine reaction that Bellatrix didn't think to suspect. She decided to taunt the little boy a bit, and ranted on and on about Harry's incompetence. Harry replied with a few caustic remarks of his own. Undaunted, the death eater decided to use choice words about Harry's love life and the size of parts of Harry's anatomy. Lestrange became so caught up in her rant that she realized that Harry was running away from her a few seconds after the fact. In his flight, Harry knocked over a few garbage bins to slow Lestrange's progress, for he needed some time if he were to pull his plan off.

Soon, he ran pass by a dead end alley, with a giant garbage bin near the end, obviously used by the inhabitants of the nearby buildings as target for garbage bombing. Harry quickly unfolded the kitten out of his invisibility cloak and tore the blindfold off the cat. Soon two harry's were staring at each other. After guiding the fake Harry to a hidden place behind the garbage bin, Harry quickly covered himself with his invisibility cloak and stood beside his double, who was making strange noises. Sighing heavily, Harry took out his wand and cast a silencing charm on the mimic. Not a moment too soon, as Bellatrix just turned into the dead end.

'Aha. Where will you run now, little potty?' Bellatrix roared, spotting the fake Harry's not so well hidden form. The real Harry replied with a few sarcastic remarks, and shot a few jinxes toward the loathed woman for good measure. Bellatrix, now furious from Harry's taunting, started to throw killing curses here and there. Harry replied with the blasting curse. Bellatrix then used a banishing charm on the giant garbage container the harry's were hiding behind, and knocked both to the ground. Though the real Harry quickly scrambled to his feet and released the fake Harry from the silencing charm, and threw his own wand in the general direction of the other Harry's hand. The lifting of the silencing charm had the desired effect, as the fake Harry was mourning in pain. Bellatrix slowly walked up to the prone form of Harry Potter, a smirk on her face.

'Well, my master will be pleased.' Said Lestrange, triumphant. 'Let's make a portkey, shall we?'

By this point, Harry had already snuck back to the entrance into the dead end alley, and in as low and gruff a voice as he could manage, yelled: 'Stupefy' using his newly acquired small wand, not really trying to miss at all. The curse was dead on, but Lestrange, living up to her reputation, had a shield already up. Harry continued to fire a flurry of hexes at Lestrange from his invisibility cloak, taking care to change the tone of his voice here and there, and shifting his position all the time.

Bellatrix, thinking she was under attack from the Order of the Phoenix, took cover behind the very garbage bin Harry used as a shield, and spat out loud: 'Well, if I can't bring the boy in, I guess I will just kill him!' Pointing her wand at the prone form of Harry Potter, who at this instant, was staring back at her with big, wide eyes, and bellowed: 'Avada Kedavra!' She then conjured a long dagger and proceeded to plunge it right through Harry's heart, though the body was already lifeless. Checking Harry for a pulse and finding none, Bellatrix disapparated with a small 'pop'.

Harry was about to walk over and check on his dead double when two new sets of footsteps came rushing by. Turning around under his invisibility cloak, Harry saw that it was none other than Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. They hurriedly kneeled besides the dead form of Harry, and finding no pulse, dejectedly sunk to the ground. Shocked silence followed for a while.

'Tonks, you should rush back to Headquarters, and let them know what happened…' started Remus, before losing his voice in obvious pain and sorrow.

Tonks silently nodded and apparated away.

Harry, no longer being able to take in the sight of the last of his parents' friends in such obvious pain over something he did, slowly undid his invisibility cloak. Remus looked up, and stared at him, an expression of total shock on his face.

'Let me explain', croaked Harry.

'Yes. Explain why I shouldn't check myself into a mental asylum… please.' Remus replied in a monotone.

So Harry proceeded to quickly explain about how he was fed up with people controlling his life and how he came up with the perfect plan to escape. Slowly, but surely, Remus saw the advantages of this plan, though his more responsible side still wish to drag Harry back to headquarters and lock him in a safe for good measure. At that thought, Remus chuckled to himself.

'And I also read that upon their death, mimics would remain in whatever shape they were in at the time, so I th… Hey, why's so funny?' Asked Harry, a bit miffed.

'Ah nothing. It's just, right now, part of me wants to drag you back to headquarters and lock you in a safe.' Said Lupin with humor. 'But I then realized that's exactly what you were trying to escape from.' Lupin chuckled a bit more, and then turned serious.

'Harry, I may be crazy, or maybe it's just the 'Sirius'ness in me (another chuckle), but I think I will go along with your plan', Lupin started. Then, suddenly turning serious, Remus continued: 'So long as you can bare the thought of hurting all those people that cares about you.'

'Well, I thought about that too, actually.' Harry said, now back underneath his invisibility cloak for good measure. 'Can you tell Ron and Hermione about me being still alive and all? But only after they have displayed their initial shock in front of other people… I think I need that initial expression to be genuine, or Dumbledore might know something is up.'

'Hmm… you do realize, that you are using people's emotions to your own ends, don't you, Harry?' Remus said softly.

'Yes… but there is no other way.' Said Harry sadly. 'And don't preach to me about all that using people stuff. You and I both know that the supposed all high and noble Dumbledore is using people left and right even as we speak!'

'I know Harry. But sometimes, things just have to be this way.' murmured Lupin. 'Well, be safe Harry. And promise me you will write me every week to let me know you're ok. Otherwise, I'm going straight to Dumbledore.'

'You don't need to threaten me, Remus. I would have written anyway.' Replied Harry softly. 'Take care of you too!'

And with that, Harry Potter left the alley where his own dead corpse laid, a dagger through its heart.

………………..

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	2. Interlude

Chapter Two: Interlude

'All… all his stuff are still here', remarked Arthur Weasley sadly. 'Look, he didn't even finish his cup of tea. It's as if he would be coming back at any moment.'

'Not all his things, Arthur, not all…' Murmured Dumbledore, examining the closet like bedroom Harry had been forced to live in, a great step up from the cupboard under the stairs Harry had lived in for the first eleven years of his life. 'I believe his invisibility cloak is not here.'

'Well, makes sense', replied Arthur sadly. 'That's how he must have snuck past Fletcher.'

'Indeed…' Dumbledore replied. 'Has the invisibility cloak been found though?'

'I'm not sure', answered Arthur, puzzled. 'Perhaps the death eaters took it with them. Invisibility cloaks are fairly rare, you know.'

'Perhaps…' Was all Dumbledore said.

The two wizards sat there in silence, each contemplating the future of a wizarding world without Harry. They've just arrived to Privet Drive from the scene of the murder. Ministry aurors were still combing it for clues to what had occurred in that alley, though the result could not have been more clearly displayed. Harry was dead, with a conjured dagger right through his heart. From the residual magic in the air, it looked like he had been hit with at least one killing curse as well. Whoever killed Harry sure didn't want to take any chances of being embarrassed by another miraculous survival on Harry's part.

Dumbledore had examined the body himself, and found no trace of deceptive or treacherous magic on it. In fact, it was as if the body was devoid of all magic. Not being an expert on wizard autopsies, Dumbledore wisely left the ministry in charge of the rest.

The two wizards were still struggling with their memories when an owl flew into the window and dropped a letter on Mr. Weasley's head. Opening it only half-heartedly, Arthur was surprised by its message. He quickly handed it over to Dumbledore.

'When do you think he made it?' Asked Mr. Weasley when it looked like Dumbledore had finished reading.

'I do not know. Though I can only imagine it was some time recent, for I have asked to be appraised of all his Gringotts activities', replied Dumbledore, frowning.

'You've been keeping tabs on his banking activities?' questioned Arthur, a hint of disapproval in his voice.

'Well, someone had to', answered Dumbledore sadly. 'Though we often forget, Harry was, after all, just a fifteen years old boy. I did not want him to spend all his money away irresponsibly.'

'But he would not have… He's not like that. Perhaps you give him too little credit', said Arthur with melancholy.

'Indeed, I may have', Dumbledore answered. 'Shall we go to Gringotts?'

'Yes, I suppose we ought', agreed Arthur, putting a locking charm on Harry's room, with all his things safely inside. 'We should send someone to get all these later.'

And with that, the two wizards apparated away, right through the failing anti-apparation wards that Dumbledore had planned to renew that very day.

………………..

'He actually wrote this today?' Asked an incredulous Arthur to the goblin sitting in front of him. He, Dumbledore, Lupin, and, to their surprise, Tonks were all summoned to Gringotts, and shown to this luxurious office, decorated lavishly with gold linings everywhere. The entire sight conferred to the precious metal quite a cheapened look. Arthur supposed that this was perhaps the very effect the goblin sitting in front of him was trying to achieve.

Actually, Dumbledore was not summoned at all, but no one had dared to deny entrance to the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared.

'That is correct, Mr. Weasley', replied the goblin importantly. 'Today, at around noon, in fact. The ministry has already issued a death certificate and the related records. We saw no reason to not inform you right away. Mr. Potter has, after all, left you (here, the goblin cast a glance to all except Dumbledore) all of the money within his own vault.'

'This… This is… I cannot…' started Arthur before being cutoff.

'You said _his own vault_, are you implying that he has, sorry, he had, shared vaults with other people?' asked Dumbledore, curious.

'That information is confidential, Headmaster Dumbledore', said the goblin politely. Turning to Mr. Weasley, he continued: 'Mr. Potter left you 60 percent of what is left within his vault. He had also set aside 1000 galleons for each of Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley, Ms. Ginevra Molly Weasley, and Ms. Hermione Jane Granger that he entrusted you to pass on to them when you deem they are responsible enough to receive such a sum of money.'

Turning to Remus Lupin, the goblin continued: 'Mr. Potter left you 30 percent of the money still left in his vault at the time of his death, along with all of his earthly possessions.' Remus nodded calmly, knowing something the other three did not.

Turning to Tonks, who was openly crying, for some strange reason, the goblin finished: 'Mr. Potter left you with 10 percent of his vault's contents, along with a certain estate he recently inherited from a certain Mr. Sirius Orion Black.'

Tonks nodded quietly, tears running freely now. She knew Harry had left her the mansion due to her distant relation with the Black family. Though why Harry didn't leave it with Dumbledore instead confused her. Adding to her confusion was that 10 percent of extra money he left her with.

Arthur was silent, lost in his own thoughts. Dumbledore was puzzled by the incredible coincidental timing between the making of Harry's will and his death. He shared his puzzlement with Remus, the only person who seemed sane at the moment. Remus gave Dumbledore a look that the old wizard would have thought to be bordering on condescending.

'Well, he came to make his will, but got killed on his way back. I see no coincidence in this at all.'

A bit later, Dumbledore silently left the three to their paperwork (for the appropriate money and property transfers). He needed to talk to his own contact within Gringotts. Then, he must call for a meeting with all the members of the Order… It was going to be a long night for Albus Dumbledore.

………………..

Harry had just put the finishing touches on the simple wards to his fairly austere new flat. He had correctly gambled on assumption that the ministry was somehow tracking his spell casting using his wand, and by using another wand than his, he had effortlessly sidestepped the restriction on underage wizardry.

_It's really kind of obvious, if one takes the time to think about it_, thought Harry in a way he learned from Hermione. _How else can they track so precisely my spell castings? They were able to know exactly what spells were cast around me at any place and any time! If they can just do that to anyone, then there would be a lot less mysteries to solve, and a much easier time tracking down criminals. They really must have put something on my wand to detect all nearby magic. I wonder if they ever take it off when one comes of age…_

Harry had been keeping himself rather busy since 'his untimely death'. After having been found by a hooting Hedwig, who was simply returning from one of her hunts, only minutes following his conversation with Lupin, Harry fearfully realized his giant mistake.

Obviously, he had not planned this whole getting away thing as well as he should have. Thus, the very first thing he did after the whole 'fake my own death' ordeal was to rush back into Diagon Alley, under the cover of his newly acquired gray cloak, fanatically looking and opportunely finding a book on illusions and concealment, and more specifically, the spell to confuse delivery owls, which he had immediately devoted all his energies to master.

Fortunately for Harry, he had received only one other owl during the few dozen minutes it took him to successfully put up the ward on himself; the spell was, to his great luck, very akin to the Confundus charm he knew so well. The owl he had received was from the ministry, telling him the usual about violation of underage wizardry, suspension, expulsion, etc., etc.

Harry had guiltily cast a few Confundus charms on the delivery owl, before sending it back into the sky, hoping whatever ministry official checked on the owls would simply assume that this one was all confused by its intended target's death. Harry also had, reluctantly and to the great protest of Hedwig, tainted her pure white feathers into a dirty brown, knowing she would draw far too much attention in her snow-white plumage.

Harry would be paying for that caution with a week of cold shoulder from his faithful companion.

Having dodged disaster once again, Harry had gone on to sign in to a shady motel that night, knowing that a strong showing of cash would quell any prying questions in those places. He had decided he could find a more permanent place later, which he had done the very next morning, in a building with a fair number of furnished vacancies, located conveniently at a walking distance from the Leaky Cauldron. However, the price was unusually high for the neighborhood his new flat was in: one far less virtuous than his old neighborhood in Surrey; hence the high vacancy.

Harry used the remainder of the day to walk around a few muggle stores, buying all sorts of clothes to disguise himself in. Most of his clothes purchases were, through no explicit intent on Harry's part, of a light color, and he had found a few interesting hats and bandanas to cover his scar with.

Having finished with the simple wards on his new apartment, Harry now turned his attention back to the concealment book he had bought yesterday. Flipping through it, he noticed that most of the spells the book exposed were all related on how to better hide oneself, or how to better pass as someone else. _So… This is what I've been reduced to_, Harry thought irritably. _Hiding away like a thief when I've done nothing wrong. Just like Sirius had…_

Shaking his head in bitter disgust, Harry silently wondered, for the very first time, if there isn't something fundamentally wrong with the wizarding world. He had always thought that the adults, in general, knew what they were doing, and must have installed all these laws and regulations for very good reasons, result of countless years of experience. But thinking back now, Harry couldn't help but feel that the ministry of magic acted more like a spoiled child than an organization that was supposed to oversee the welfare of its citizens. He pondered on these thoughts well into the night, falling asleep uncomfortably on his sofa…

………………..

_He was feeling so very alone, floating in the darkness, abandoned by his so-called 'family', surrounded by cold mists that he could not recognize. Wait, mists? Darkness? Where was he? With a startling realization, he realized that he was underwater, and the cold mists surrounding him were actually the frigid liquid of the uncharted depths of the world. How did he get here? Had he not been in a forest only awhile back?_

_Suddenly, the world turned bright orange, and the water around him started to boil. He remembered vaguely to wonder at why he was not feeling any pain from the heat, though had he focused a bit more, he would have wondered about something far more fundamental: how was he breathing under water?_

_The eerie light dimmed, unable to compete against the sheer volume of the freezing water around it, though it still managed to turn the perpetual night of the abyss into unfamiliar daylight. Creatures of all sorts, born to the everlasting darkness of the depths, fled away from the light, unable to withstand its blinding radiance. He, however, was not afraid. He knew what light was. He approached._

_A fissure had been opened at the bottom of the world, pouring the incandescent light of burning flames into the oceanic depths. Still a fair distance away, he miraculously recalled teachings from his tormented childhood. Was this magma from the burning core, about to erupt? As if responding to his thoughts, the fissure burst open. _

_What was spewing out amazed him. _

_A pair of demonic figures, glowing with the undead blaze of horror stories, sprung forth, the stench of death and decay foreshadowing them. In their wake, giant, mansion-sized, masses of shimmering light followed…_

He woke up with a mental start, the dream about his past vivid in his mind. Slowly, he smiled. A smile that, for once, actually reached his glowing red eyes.

………………..

Harry woke up the next day feeling refreshed and able to take on the weight of the world. Which he, of course, literally had to.

After a quick and well cooked breakfast, Harry decided to start organizing his jumbled thoughts about Voldemort, prophecies, and trainings onto a piece of paper. After awhile, he realized something very frustrating: even if he could miraculously start studying and learning like Hermione, which he obviously couldn't, the best he could hope for before his next encounter with Voldemort would be to master very advanced spells of shield charms and stunners, and other charms and hexes with such trivial functionalities.

_What good would those be against Voldemort_, thought Harry darkly. _Any ministry auror can do all these and more! They would all stand a better chance at defeating the Dark Lord than me. I would need something far more powerful than what I can learn in a textbook._ _And what's with Dumbledore and not wanting to kill Tom? Is Dumbledore really that afraid of tainting his own conscience? Then who is he to make countless suffer just so he can sleep more soundly at night? And didn't Dumbledore defeat some other dark lord way back? So why can't he do it again?_

At this point, Harry was pacing back and forth in his little apartment, starting to get angry once more. He wisely decided to take a walk to calm himself down. Perhaps he'd even try out some of the muggle treats he had only heard while living at the Dursley's.

………………..

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	3. Reactions to a New Reality

Chapter Three

Reactions to a New Reality

At number 12 Grimmauld Place, a huge meeting was taking place, with nearly all members of the Order of the Phoenix present. As was common with most gatherings where Albus Dumbledore was present, all eyes turned questioningly toward the aged wizard as soon as the man entered into the meeting room, a hushed silence quickly following the headmaster's entrance.

'Alas, my friends', began Dumbledore, without much fanfare. 'The rumors are true. It would seem that our young Mr. Potter was ambushed and subsequently killed by Voldemort's death eaters during an outing in Diagon Alley. I cannot b…'

'How can this be!' cried a woman in the crowd, outrage seeping through her voice. 'He was supposed to be protected!'

'It would seems that Mr. Potter was able to slip by our surveillance, Molly.' Replied Dumbledore, avoiding the furious redhead's gaze. 'Ms. Tonks and Mr. Lupin tried to locate Harry as soon as we realized that he was missing, but they arrived too late.'

'Bloody Hell!' exclaimed Molly, demonstrating clearly to all present where her children got the expression. 'What kind of protection are you running if you can't even see Harry leaving!?!?'

'Please calm down, Molly. This event has been hard on all of us.' Stated Dumbledore sadly. 'Especially now that Voldemort is rapidly gaining power, and getting more org…'

'So that's it to you, isn't it?' Interjected Remus Lupin, who up to that point, had remained surprisingly subdued. 'Harry was just one more tool for you, wasn't he? You keep him locked up supposedly safely in a home with people who are itching to hurt him just so you can bring him out and use him when YOU think is the right time, is that it?'

'Remus, you know as well as I do that the blood protection must be maintained, otherwise, Harry could…' But Dumbledore didn't get to finish, as he was interrupted, for the third time in less than a minute.

'Harry could what, Dumbledore? Get killed?' remarked Remus sarcastically. 'Well, newsflash for you, old man: Harry still got killed!'

'Far be it for me to point out the obvious, Lupin, but Potter DID deliberately fled away from the protection that the headmaster was kind enough to give him.' Came the sneering voice of Severus Snape. 'Had he not been such a spoiled brat who thinks he can just do whatever he wants without permission, than he might have lived longer.' Concluded the Hogwarts potions teacher, in a tone that seemed exultant and sad at the same time.

Perhaps it was Snape's clear ambivalence that saved him from a savage beating at the hands of Remus and Molly, who were clearly longing to vent their anger on someone. Unfortunately for Dumbledore, that someone turned out to be him.

'Well, and what permission, pray tell, did he need?' argued back Remus. Turning to Dumbledore, he continued: 'Permission to get out of his house? Permission to not have to live with people who hate him? Permission to not have his life being controlled by some manipulative hypocrite who constantly hides behind the excuse of doing things for the "greater good"? Huh? What permission did he need?' Concluded Remus, yelling.

'Yes. And sending him back when he could have come here just as well… What in the bloody Hell were you thinking?' roared the Weasley matriarch, also looking at Dumbledore. The rest of the Order stayed muted, some shocked by the way Dumbledore had just been talked to, others silently contemplating the words that had just been said.

'Mr. Lupin, Mrs. Weasley', stated Dumbledore, a bit loudly. 'Perhaps you should take a walk to calm yourselves. We still have many other urgent issues to address, and a more constructive atmosphere would be much appreciated.'

'Oh, I will take a walk alright', began Remus venomously. 'In fact, I'm walking out of here forever.'

'What are you saying, Mr. Lupin?' Asked Minerva McGonagall, refusing to believe what she was hearing.

'I'm saying that the Order of the Phoenix and its leadership', Remus emphasized the last word quite loudly, looking pointedly at Dumbledore. 'no longer fits with my visions of justice and righteousness. So I am quitting the Order', clarified Remus in a chilling voice, causing gasps of shock around the room. Without another word, the werewolf walked out of the meeting room.

'Should we not obliviate his memory of us and of this place, headmaster?' Asked Snape, drawing glares from most people present.

'Not for the moment.' Stated Dumbledore quietly, obviously a bit shocked by the turn of events. 'I believe that Mr. Lupin is simply distressed over the loss of young Mr. Potter, and made those remarks in the heat of the moment. I am certain that he did not truly meant his words. I shall speak with him later on, once he calms down. Let's address another, less personal subject for now, shall we? What news do you have of Voldemort?'

'Nothing good, I'm afraid.' Started Snape. 'The Dark Lord has now regained all of his formidable powers from before his fall, and, from what I can tell, even more than that. He has been summoning dark creatures of all sorts to his new fortress at Azkaban. He's also gathered far more allies than I can count, and it goes without saying that the death eater ranks have been replenished since the prison takeover.'

'These are bad tidings indeed, Severus.' Murmured Dumbledore, in a voice that nevertheless managed to reach all present at the meeting. 'I had hoped the ministry and us could have combined our efforts and stopped Tom before he was able to recover his powers, but Minister Fudge had been less than accommodating… I'm afraid his blunder will cause us dearly… But you seem to wish to add something, Severus.'

'Yes… Yes, I do.' Said Snape uncertainly. 'The Dark Lord's behavior seems to have changed somehow… I can't quite put the change into words, but I feel that he might be even more dangerous now than he was before.'

And the meeting continued into the night, with reports from all over the world, some good, and some bad. The subject of Harry Potter's death was never brought up again.

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Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, out in the stormy sea, the last of the fortifications were being completed on what had become the most ominous citadel on the planet. The mere sight of the building would cause any attacker to tremble in fear, for the black fortress seemed to radiate power, and more dauntingly, evil.

Beside the usual and more obscure wards that permeated its walls, the castle's many high turrets and tall towers, once a refuge of sanity for the few human guards stationed to the one time prison alongside their dementor counterparts, now housed countless and deadly ranged weapons, all charmed to shoot down any unwanted visitors, be they from air or sea. The battlements of the fortress, a mere decoration before the takeover, were all magically augmented and reinforced, manned by creatures that do not sleep, armed to the teeth with dark weapons of pain. A high spire was magically raised out of the ground, serving as aerie to the numerous dark flyers that now scouted the perennial black skies above the island.

Though unseen, the most horrific addition to the castle was the magical property conferred to its outer walls by none other than the Dark Lord himself. Should any attacker make it that close, the outer wall would radiate tremendous and nauseating heat upon all creatures that do not have the dark mark, causing them to either spontaneously combust, or in the case of the more resilient creatures, to melt and decay. All in all, the Dark Lord's new stronghold was all but impregnable.

Though at this very instant, the Dark Lord was not pleased by that fairly enviable fact. No, he was pleased by something far better: the death of what had become a real torn in his masterful plans of world subjugation.

'Are you positive that it was the boy, and not some noble fool trying to draw our deadly attention away from the little brat?' Asked Voldemort, surprisingly not hissing all that much.

'Yes, my lord', replied nervously Lestrange. 'He was already dead for a few moments when I left the scene. Polyjuice potion takers would have immediately reverted back to their original body after death, of that I am sure.'

'Hmm… Interesting… This seems almost too easy…' Mused the Dark Lord. Continuing more to himself than his minions: 'But maybe there is a way to take advantage of this, regardless… Yes… We can cause massive panic at least. Maybe even gain a few more death eaters… Yes. Definitively. I shall personally pay a visit to them for this…' After a contemplative silence, Voldemort commandingly intoned: 'Bella, since you started this, I want you to keep an eye out on anything related to the boy's death. Find out as much as possible. Go to the brat's funeral for all I care. Report back anything you find as soon as you can. Remember, I don't like waiting.'

'Yes, of course.' Answered Bellatrix, a bit disappointed for seemingly not have earned more favor from the Dark Lord. 'I shall depart at once.'

Staring at the retreating figure of Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, unofficial right-hand man of the dark abomination of a man standing left of him, intoned pessimistically: 'Do you think the Order would go as far as sacrificing one of their own just to keep the boy safe?'

'Ah, my dear Lucius, I think you underestimate the foolish selflessness of those naïve mudblood lovers.' Said Voldemort soothingly, as if teaching a child. 'And that is your greatest weakness, old friend. In order to vanquish an enemy, one must understand all that motivate their actions. Alas, I made the mistake of overlooking this very matter once, and it almost caused my eternal downfall.'

Here, Voldemort paused, gazing into some unknown memory that Lucius knew better than to intrude upon. The senior Malfoy could have sworn he heard the Dark Lord mumble something about 'it being a blessing in disguise', though Malfoy had no idea what his esteemed Dark Lord was referring to. After a while, the Dark Lord seemed to come out of his torpor and, startling Lucius by his loud voice, proclaimed to no one in particular that he will not make the same mistake twice, and made other, more usual proclamations about Dumbledore's lifespan. Voldemort capped the whole tirade off with the ever so expected maniacal cackle of a typical Dark Lord before heading off to meet some more potential allies.

Lucius was somewhat comforted by the traditional insane laughter. The Dark Lord seemed to be behaving a bit oddly as of late, and Lucius wasn't sure what to make of it. _It's as if the Dark Lord has become more mature at being evil_, mused Lucius. Though how can one be more mature about being evil escaped Malfoy's understanding at the moment.

--------------------

In a small bedroom within a gravity defying structural marvel, surrounded by posters of flying orange men, a red headed boy was awkwardly trying to comfort what's left of his best friends, a brushy, brown haired girl. The girl in question currently had her head buried deep within his chest, holding on as if for dear life, and crying her eyes out at the apparent death of their other best friend. Having secretly wished for such close contact with the girl since two years back, the boy was silently cursing his best mate for indirectly providing him with such an opportunity under such miserable circumstances.

'Oh Ron! How can this happen!' cried Hermione in between sobs. 'How can Dumbledore let this happen? I should have been there! I should have argued with the Order more to let me write him! I knew he was sad and depressed, and I let them put him away in that horrible place… he… I…'

'Shhhh… Hermione, it's none of your fault', stated Ron with conviction. 'If anything, it's mine. I didn't even try to write him this time. He must have felt alone and abandoned. I… I was just so caught up in this other thing…' Ron stopped his mumbling right there, thinking of all the draft letters he wrote to Hermione, letters that now filled his waste bin to the brim.

'What?!' asked Hermione with a suddenly chilling voice, pulling out of the embrace. 'How could you Ron? He was your best friend! What could have been more important than to make sure your best friend is ok!?!? WHAT!?!?'

To say that Ron was taken aback by Hermione's sudden change of attitude would have been quite the understatement. _Err… Man, talk about mood swings… I wonder if she's not having her…_ but Ron's silent reflections were brutally interrupted by a giant mass hitting his chest. Glancing down, he realized, to his surprise, that it was Hermione crying into his chest once more, mumbling muffled apologies into his shirt.

'Eh… it's ok, Hermione. I… I… I was distracted because… because I… Here.' Said Ron, handing Hermione the latest version of his love letter, not trusting himself to say the right words to the girl he loved while she was crying into his chest.

'Wh… What's this?' asked Hermione, taking the piece of parchment with a trembling hand, slightly confused.

'The reason why I was so distracted…' stated Ron, avoiding Hermione's questioning gaze.

Hermione was just about to unfold the piece of parchment when a loud _crack_ was heard down in the kitchen. Shortly after, the comforting voice of Remus Lupin was heard calling up: 'Ron, Hermione. Are you here? There is something very important I need to tell you both! …Ron? Hermione? It's about Harry.'

Hermione promptly rushing out to meet Lupin, unconsciously folding up Ron's letter and stashing it into one of her pockets. Ron, equally eager to hear any news about Harry however gruesome they may be, didn't even notice Hermione's gesture as he followed her out of his room.

* * *

Please review! Tell me what you like or don't like! Show me someone's reading this, at least!

To my previous reviewers: Thanks a lot! You guys are the best! You took a chance on a little known newbie like me, so thanks!! Since it's fairly early in the story and most of you didn't comment on something specific, I shall forego the routine of answering reviews for now. Feel free to comment again!


	4. Junction

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all characters from the Harry Potter books are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. These stories are for pure non-profit personal enjoyment. Only the story plots and original characters are mine.

* * *

Chapter Four

Junction

"_Boy-Who-Lived Dead!"_

_Reliable sources within the ministry have learned that Harry James Potter, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived, was killed yesterday afternoon in muggle London, near the Leaky Cauldron, by servant(s) of the Dark Lord. As most readers know, Harry Potter was instrumental in the first defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, fifteen years ago, and played a crucial role in exposing the Dark Lord's return only a few weeks back._

_Friends of the famous boy were shocked. Arthur and Molly Weasley, reported by some Hogwarts students as a second family to young Mr. Potter, could not be reached for comment._

_His best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, had only these confusing comments to say about their departed comrade: '_Eh… What can I say… Yes, I'm very sad…yeap, definitively sad… and shocked, yeah shocked! And angry! Very very angry! How can Harry… err… go get himself killed like that? If he was alive, I'd kill him for dying on us!' 'Ron! Stop saying things like that!' 'Saying things like what? Oh, right! Sorry Hermione. Well, I'd also like to add that all Harry ever wanted was to be treated like a normal boy, but you (expletive) reporters never left him alone. None of you did! And now he's dead. I hope you're all happy, you bunch of (expletive) (expletive)._' '_Ron! Watch your mouth! What he meant was that, we both have accepted the fact that he is dead, and we hope that where ever Harry is now, he can find the happiness and freedom he never had when he was here._' _'Huh? When did I ever said I'm… Ouch! What did you step on my shoe for, Hermione!' _More bickering between the two surviving members of what reportedly had been an inseparable trio ensued. It is the opinion of this reporter that the shock and stress of the loss were getting to both youngsters. _

_The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, had also hastily called a press meeting and had this to say: '_Harry was like a son to me. I look back with fondness at some of the defining moments in his young life that I was privileged to have shared with him, such as my bedside visit to him at the end of his triwizard tournament, and how happy he was to see me._' When asked about his incessant slander and ridicule of the boy for the past year, Minister Fudge declined to comment and promptly ended the press conference._

_Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the Boy-Who-Lived was scheduled to attend his six year of magical education, declined to comment._

_In a shocking turn of events, the self-proclaimed Dark Lord delivered the following comment in person at our offices, causing several of our staff to promptly pass out: '_I am Lord (You-Know-Who). As you can see, I can go wherever I want. You there! Get out of your puny little hiding place and take down what I say. And you'd better not miss a single word, and don't you dare misquote me, or else! Hurry up! Crucio! Are you ready now? (Throat clearing noises) Wizards of the world! Your precious and useless Potter boy is now dead, and that muggle loving Dumbledore will soon be next, not that he's done anything useful recently. It is high time for all you pureblooded wizards out there to decide: You are either with me, or you are against me! Choose wisely! Join me, and you shall be rewarded, oppose me, and you shall wish you were dead. You there, the quote taker, here is a reward for being less of coward than the rest of your puny co-workers._' At this point, the Dark Lord made hair grow again on our bald colleague's head (the one taking quotes from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named), then disapparated._

_Suffice to say that things are definitively changing with the death of our beloved Harry. More details on this disheartening assassination will be divulged as soon as we learn of them._

--------------------

Back in muggle London, Phillip Jay Harrison, a.k.a. Harry James Potter, a.k.a. The-Boy-Who-Lived-But-Is-Now-Dead, leisurely walked down a random street, wolfing down a muggle ice cream cone for the very first time in his life, all the while pondering silently about how best to use this expensively bought free-time to learn useful things to defeat Voldemort.

Harry had, using the muggle money he had exchanged earlier at Gringotts, cleverly disguised himself through mostly muggle means, and he was rather proud of it too. He now sported a rather popular, and somewhat spiky, shorter hairstyle, though his hair remained in their normal raven color. His defining green eyes were currently hidden by a pair of inconspicuous sunglasses, which were, in fact, his old eyeglasses tinted magically to a dark brown color. Finally, the scar that would normally give him away so easily was now covered by a sporty white headband, which actually complemented his shorter hairstyle rather well.

The rest of Harry's new muggle attire were all light colored, fairly formfitting (as opposed to the giant cloths that Harry wore at the Dursley's), and equally movement oriented (as opposed to formalwear).

Thus, it was with new, clean, and fairly flashy clothes (due to Harry's preference for light colors) that a certain Mr. Phillip J. Harrison heard the screams of a girl, and, taking a look around him for the first time since he started munching on his large ice cream cone, realized that he had accidentally wandered into one of the most unsavory neighborhoods of London.

Looking at the source of the scream, Harry saw three twenty-ish looking thugs surrounding a single and clearly feminine figure within a dark and out of sight alley. The girl was obviously a witch, judging by the extremely old fashioned and magical-looking clothes that she was wearing. She seemed to be around the same height as Harry, and the hood of a cloak prevented Harry from having a good look at the girl's face, though he barely took notice of that fact at this fairly precarious moment. Debating only for a brief instant on the judiciousness of drawing attention to himself by playing the hero once again, Harry quickly jumped into the alley, wand drawn.

'Leave her alone, you jerks.' Bellowed Harry in what he hoped was an intimidating voice. Unfortunately for him, he had focused too much attention on the three thugs in front of him, and not enough attention on what he was stepping on. Thus, Harry let out an embarrassingly girlish scream when his left foot slipped on a discarded but still firmly capped water bottle. Though he was able to catch himself just in time to prevent a nasty fall from the slip up, a rushing fist to his nose quickly evened out the matter, with Harry flattened to the pavement, staring up at one of the thugs who was unclenching his fist in triumph.

'Hahaha, little boy, what do you think you can possibly do to us?' Sneered the thug that just punched him.

'Yeah man, seriously, kids these days. Hey, maybe we can make him watch when the girl will be entertaining us, eh?'

'I doubt it', came the melodious but threatening voice of the girl in question. Harry saw the girl raise her left arm, wand in hand. She then did something that puzzled Harry greatly. The girl decided to hold her wand with both hands in an extremely bizarre fashion, and, pointing it at one of the thugs, yelled out: 'Stupidfy!' This caused the thug to collapse to the ground, unconscious and obviously stunned.

The remaining two thugs, who had been busy snickering at Harry, were not too sure of what just happened, and promptly rushed the girl, hoping to take her out of action. The girl turned her wand to face them and stunned one in a similarly peculiar fashion as she did the first thug. She then jumped awkwardly out of the way of the last one, and, with wand aimed, called out: 'Expel-mucus', which caused the last man to fly back after getting hit by a beam of red light emanating from her wand… though the beam looked suspiciously narrow in Harry's opinion.

After the last thug fell to the ground unconscious, the girl went around each man, once again pointing at them with her wand held in both hands and cast the 'obliterate' charm. Turning to Harry with a conspiratorial wink, she said: 'Can't have them remember about us magic folks, now can we?'

Somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, he vaguely realized that the girl was trying to say she had just performed a memory charm on the three bullies. However, the vast majority of Harry's brain cells decided to cease functioning upon the sight of the girl's no longer hidden face.

He simply sat there, gazing at the mesmerizing sight before him. The girl, who had taken her cloak off by this point, looked to be in her late teens, and had, in Harry's entirely unbiased opinion, a perfectly proportioned body. Her smooth skin looked more than fair, and, from what little Harry could glimpse, not even slightly wilted by time. She was currently swaying her head slightly, intent on shaking loose her long, lustrous strands of hair. The strands, descending almost to her waist, were the color of a faultless midnight, and shone silver under the sun. Her face, no longer hidden by the shadows of her cloak's hood, was highlighted by elements that, though not perfect on their own, seemed to complement each other without flaw, conveying upon her an air of innocent beauty no longer found at her age.

The girl's entrancingly big, crystal blue eyes, currently looking back into Harry's own emerald ones, seemed to burn with an internal radiance that would piece through the very soul of any who dared to look into them. Unfortunately for Harry, he had been looking straight into them for a while, and it was as if his very being, his entire life, all that defined who he was, was being willingly conveyed to the girl through the enchanted gaze.

'You are beautiful…' breathed Harry after a long period of silence, obviously having not regained all of his senses yet.

'Umm… Thanks…' the girl replied blushingly, breaking their eye contact. She gently knelt down beside Harry, examining his nose wound with some concern. 'That looks painful.' She stated, genuinely worried.

'Yeah, I'm ok. Nothing to worry about. I've had worse!' babbled Harry, trying to impress the girl. 'I'm Harry Potter.' Harry Potter said pompously, before he could stop himself. After all, Harry Potter was supposed to be dead to the magical world.

'That sounds like a nice name', replied the girl politely, obviously not recognizing the name, to Harry's great relief and slight chagrin. 'My name is Celeste… Here, let me heal your nose for you.'

Before Harry could protest, he was staring down Celeste's wand, pointed directly at his bleeding and possibly broken nose, and thus also right in between his eyes. _If she wanted me dead…_ thought Harry, regaining some of his reasoning power and wariness.

'Err… Heal?' incanted Celeste uncertainly. Harry was about to ask if she knew what she was doing when the familiar and painful sensation of bones mending was felt in his nose.

'Thanks' said Harry after he was sure he could breathe through his nose again. 'But what kind of healing charm was that? I've never heard of it before. In fact, a lot of the spells you have cast seemed to have the wrong incantation. How did you even manage to make them all work?'

'Oh! My pronunciations were wrong?' exclaimed the girl in a sincerely surprised and somewhat distressful voice. Harry immediately felt hitting himself for causing the girl any form of anguish, especially since she just saved him from a possible beating at the hands of three thugs, not to mention the healing charm she did on his nose.

'Can you tell me the correct pronunciations then?' Asked the girl pleadingly, in a sweet voice that made Harry's heart skip multiple beats at a time. As if that wasn't enough, Celeste also gave Harry the most innocent and imploring look Harry had ever seen.

'Hmm… Sure', Replied Harry shyly, though not without eagerness. 'That first hex you used, the stunning spell, should be pronounced _stupefy_, and not _stupidfy_.'

'Oh…' intoned Celeste naively, bringing a hand to the side of her cheek, realization dawning in her eyes. 'I did think that _stupidfy_ sounded a bit stupid…'

'Yeah. And that other spell you used, the disarming one, should be pronounced _expelliarmus_, and the memory charm's incantation is _obliviate_.' Continued Harry, trying not to be engrossed by the girl's intense and cute expression of concentration, clearly trying to memorize Harry's words. 'And I don't really know the Healing charm's incantation myself. Sorry…'

'Oh, that's perfectly alright, Harry' intoned Celeste in her melodious voice. 'You've been of great help already.'

'Ah… it's nothing…' Said Harry sheepishly, scratching his head and looking anywhere but at Celeste. 'How did you make the spells work if you didn't even know the proper incantations?' Asked Harry, trying to make conversation and still too embarrassed to look at the girl. Unfortunately for him, not looking at Celeste turned out to be a bad idea.

'So what did you say the incantation for the memory charm was again?' questioned Celeste, slight regret seeping into her enchanting voice.

'_Obliviate_, why?' Replied Harry, still clueless.

'Because you ask too many questions. I'm sorry Harry.' And she sounded genuinely so. 'Obliviate!'

Harry had just enough time to snap his head back toward Celeste, and barely registered the apologetic look in her eyes before collapsing back onto the pavement.

--------------------

Harry woke up to the most angelic sight he's ever seen. The thought of having died and waking up in Heaven briefly crossed Harry's mind as it struggled to make sense of the heavenly vision before him. Upon closer inspection, what he thought was an angel turned out to be, in Harry's opinion, something equally divine: an incredibly cute girl, looking down on him with obvious concern in her eyes.

'You are beautiful…' breathed Harry after a long period of silence, obviously having not regained all of his senses yet.

'Umm… Thanks…' the girl replied blushingly, not breaking their eye contact. She was knelt beside Harry, examining him with some apprehension. 'How does your head feel?' She asked, genuinely worried.

'Yeah, it's fine. Nothing to worry about. I've had worse!' babbled Harry, trying to impress the girl. 'I'm Harry Potter.' Harry Potter said pompously, before he could stop himself. After all, Harry Potter was supposed to be dead to the magical world.

'That sounds like a nice name', replied the girl politely, apparently not recognizing the name, to Harry's great relief and slight chagrin. 'My name is Celeste… Your nose was broken; I healed it as best as I could. I'm not sure what I can do for your headache.'

'Oh… Thanks', said Harry sheepishly. Remembering the incoming punch to his nose, he asked: 'What happened?'

'Well, one of them hit you pretty hard on the nose, and you fell backwards to the ground. I think you hit your head and passed out.' Explained Celeste, a slight hint of amusement in her voice.

Harry, was, by this point, mentally kicking himself with both of his feet. _Great. I've made a complete fool of myself. Nice going, Harry. Way to impress a girl._ Thought the Boy-Who-Lived, ashamed.

As if knowing exactly what he needed to hear, Celeste decided to add: 'But you distracted them long enough for me to stun them. So thanks for the help. I probably would have been in far greater troubles if it weren't for you.'

'Really?' Asked Harry, even more embarrassed now, somehow. There he was, supposed hero of the wizarding world, and potential vanquisher of the most powerful dark lord in centuries. _And I'm not even able to handle three muggle bullies on my own…_ Harry thought moodily. _What am I going to do? Maybe I should have stayed at home and begged the Order to train me…_ Realizing that Celeste was politely waiting for some sort of reply from him to a comment that he had obviously spaced out on, Harry frantically tried to change the subject to the first thing that came to his unfocused mind, which turned out to be quite untactful: 'Well, hmm… So what did those thugs want with you anyway?'

'I think I have a vague idea', supplied Celeste nebulously, a slight tinge of coldness in her voice. Harry had more than a vague idea of what the thugs wanted, but decided wisely not to pursue the obvious.

'Where are you staying, Harry?' Asked Celeste harmoniously, after a brief period of pensive silence.

'Err… I rented a place a few blocks up the street, why?' Replied Harry, confused by the purpose of the question.

'Then let me bring you home. I want to make sure you're going to be ok.' Explained Celeste at Harry's question.

Eager to spend more time with the incredibly cute girl before him, Harry promptly agreed to the proposition. As he was being pulled up, Harry Potter couldn't help but feel that, despite a painful meeting with a rock solid fist and an embarrassing trip to the pavement, his life was definitively taking a turn for the better.

------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N:

Well, as most of you probably guessed by now, this will be an HP/OC fic, and probably R/Hr, but HP and Hr will be the two main canon characters, for sure.

'a discarded but still firmly capped water bottle' – I dare you to step and put most of your weight on one, and see if you can still keep your seems to be having some probs with their QuickEdit tool, some paragraphs get mixed up weirdly and I can't put in the 'square bracket characters' in, for some reason. Why do I need them? Well, if you didn't notice, I won't tell :P

Thanks again for all those who reviewed! You guys really encouraged me to write more this time around... and hopefully, one day, I can finish this one and my very first fic as well. So please keep on reviewing! Let me know what you guys think! Especially about the new OC.

Selected replies:

MysterioX: Yes, I admit it was kinda ooc of Molly. I just don't know how caring mothers act... but deep down, I probably just found her constant mothering too annoying to write... :P

OldNick: Yeah, it was tactless of him, wasn't it? I thought of that too, but then I realized: Hey, why am I even bothering? Isn't that just like Ron anyways?

FSI: Sorry... I will try finishing that first HPCC fic once I'm confident enough... hopefully.

Tibit about the new OC's inspiration:  
As you've noticed, the chapter's title is 'Junction'. There is a TV series who's 8th episode is also called 'Junction' (though for totally different reasons), and it just aired recently. And the OC is based VERY VERY loosely on one of the female characters in that series' prequel.


	5. Back and Forth, Path I: Back

Chapter Five

Back and Forth, Path I: Back

Hermione Granger was pinned protectively against the pavement by her read-headed best friend, looking on with shock as her great aunt, seventy-seven years of age and pistol in hand, battled against the two death eaters that had been about to capture her and Ron. Their wands, stripped from them by surprise at the outset of the clash, laid no more than ten feet from them, though with the chaotic bullets and jets of spell beams flying overhead, the sticks of wood might as well be a world away. Hermione briefly took her eyes off of her great aunt (who had, by now, pressed the death eaters into a corner) to chance a glimpse at her read-headed companion.

The momentary glance away from the battle saved her from being blinded by the piecing light of what she assumed was a muggle flash grenade. Ron and, fortunately, the two death eaters were not so lucky. Immediately after, one of the momentarily blinded dark wizards was gravely wounded by the aged woman's impressively accurate shots, though the other, older one, in a true display of battle hardened reflexes, managed to blindly launch a disarming charm toward the old lady, perhaps aided by the sound of gunfire.

The effects would have been funny if the old lady wasn't Hermione's great aunt: she was launched backwards through the air, her pistols magically pulled from her and flying toward the death eater. Undaunted, the aged woman quickly got back to her feet and rushed the death eater with all the speed she could muster, which wasn't really a lot. Normally, she would have been easily neutralized, if not worse, by the powerful dark wizard. In the current circumstance, however, the death eater was still half-blind; that, compounded with the significantly heavier-than-a-wand weight of the twin pistols smacking him right in the face (from the disarming charm he himself cast earlier) caused him to miss, though barely, the oncoming lady. Using slow but powerful martial art moves that her aged body could still perform, Hermione's great aunt managed to disarm and, from the popping sound, even bone-breakingly injure the martial-art-illiterate death eater, though not without some effort. Wandless, injured and outnumbered, the death eater grabbed his bleeding companion and promptly portkeyed away.

After a while of wary scan around the area, and determining that all was safe, Hermione shakily got back to her feet, helped by a catatonic Ron who, by the vacant look in his eyes, seemed to be merely going through the motions. To say he was traumatized by the old lady before him would have been a severe understatement.

They were slowly walking toward her great aunt to check up on her when, out of nowhere, the burned and barely conscious body of Severus Snape apparated ten feet above them. Demonstrating tremendous chivalry and taxing his keeper reflexes to the limit, Ron somehow managed to gently push Hermione to safety before his face got once again acquainted with the pavement, sandwiched between a now comatose potions teacher and the hard muggle concrete that he (and his face!) had recently come to despise.

Above them, in an 'end of the world' style swirl, the cloudy sky was abruptly cleansed of all obstructive mists, the Sun free to once again shine its majestic light upon the now confused inhabitants of London below…

---------------------

Eight minutes earlier…

'This way!' yelled an out of breath Hermione, dragging Ron with her. They were currently running through the maze that was the streets of old London, five death eaters hot on their heels.

'No! There's one of them coming from there, look!' replied Ron, equally out of breath.

'Well, can you see which way is clear?' asked Hermione, dodging an incoming spell with effort.

'Over here!' And they promptly ran toward the death eater free alley.

Almost reaching the alley, Hermione noticed something rather disturbing: 'Ron wait! This looks like a dead-end!'

But the warning came too late, as their momentum carried them into the passage, whose other end was obviously blocked, seemingly only recently. The five death eaters chasing them closed out the only exit behind them.

'Solarum!' cried Hermione suddenly, wand held high, pointing at the sky, her back still to the death eaters. A multitude of thick, bright yellow beams shot of her wand toward a myriad of directions, angled slightly toward the ground. Hermione then twirled in place, causing the still shining beams of light to rotate with her, sweeping all possible angles and striking every single death eater. Ron, semi-willing target of that very spell during their informal trainings, had already knelt safely beside Hermione even before the spell was complete, as they had practiced. As Ron raised his own wand to stun the now momentarily incapacitated death eaters, he was stunned himself: not by any spells, but by the fact that only one death eater now remained where there had been five.

'Advanced illusion charms!' Cried Hermione, also noticing the magical disappearance of the death eaters. 'Ron! He must have created duplicate illusions of himself back at the building! Of course, any magical spell hitting them would have broken the charm, but really, that was kinda brilliant.'

'Hehe, not so proud now, are you, death eater?' asked Ron confidently, wand trained on the still somewhat dazed man. 'Looks like we out number you once more!'

'Wee-onk!' came another voice out of thin air, as Hermione and Ron's wands were physically plucked out of their hands. A somewhat young looking death eater came out from his invisibility cloak, a cocky smile on his face. 'You ok there, Rudolph?'

'For the last time, brat, my name is Rodolphus!' Said the first death eater, regaining his senses. Turning to Hermione, he continued in a much more civilized tone: 'Impressive spell, Ms. Granger, but ultimately futile. The Dark Lord wishes to have a word with you both. If you can just touch this portke…'

The man was abruptly cut off by the unmistakable sound of a gun going off. Judging by the new finger sized hole on the senior death eater's loose fitting robe, the bullet didn't miss by much.

'Leave them alone! If you want to hurt them, you'll have to go through me first!' came the shrieking but sturdy voice of Hermione's great aunt. Glancing past the alley's entrance, Hermione saw, to her astonishment, a seventy-seven years old lady that was her great aunt rushing toward them at an impressive speed, guns blazing…

-------------------

Two hours earlier…

'Why are we here again?' asked an impatient Ron as Hermione knocked on a plain looking door of a plain looking apartment within a plain looking building of a plain looking neighborhood of London, on a cloudy and plain looking day, no less.

'Because my great aunt asked me to visit her', replied Hermione, slightly annoyed, though only partially by Ron's incessant whining. The other part, though she did not want to admit (being the perfect grand niece she was), could be attributed to her slight irritation at being summoned by her great aunt again, probably to be setup once more to one of these 'candidates' that she kept officiously finding for her. 'I haven't seen her for over a year now, so it was only polite of me to come.' Said Hermione aloud, partially trying to convince herself.

'So why am I here?' asked Ron, genuinely sounding like he didn't already know the answer.

'Because you said that you'd never let me out of your sight after what happened with Harry, and have been stalking me like a pervert for the past three weeks?' offered Hermione, somehow managing to sound sarcastic and helpful at the same time.

'Well, you have to admit that you were th…' trailed Ron as the plain looking door opposite Hermione's great aunt's apartment opened up. A man pompously strutted out. One glance at the man told Hermione that he was one of those annoying braggers trying to dress like a sport star and pretending to be cool type of person that would hit on anything female.

Hermione and Ron paid him no mind, assuming he'd simply head toward the stairs. However, after several moments passed and no sound of footsteps was heard, Hermione shifted her attention back onto the man, and caught him staring back at her. Noticing her gaze, the man made exaggerated up and down motions with his head, running his eyes all over her body, then said in the expected macho man voice: 'Hey hot stuff, wanna ditch your boyfriend there and go hang out with some real people?' Hermione flushed red while Ron was simply red with anger. The redhead decided to helpfully inform the annoying man of the chances of his annoying face running into Ron's own fist, to which the man simply replied, not even looking in Ron's direction: 'Wow man, hope you will have him better trained than that! Otherwise, you know where I live!' A cocky wink from behind his pimp-looking sunglasses later, the man annoyingly pranced away. Ron continued to shout some biting remarks toward the retreating back of the weirdo, who wisely decided to ignore them. Hermione felt oddly satisfied at Ron's protectiveness, and was pondering on this new development in her emotions when the door to her great aunt's opened suddenly.

'Ah, hello, Herm dear…' started Hermione's great aunt, in a genuinely joyous tone. '…Oh! And who might this be?' She added, sounding a bit less happy.

'This is Ronald Weasley, auntie. He's one of my friends from school.'

'Ah! So nice to meet you young lad. Well, do come in, do come in.' replied Hermione's great aunt enthusiastically.

After the obligatory tea was served, and the usual what-have-you-been-up-to queries were answered, Hermione's great aunt turned to Ron with something akin to hunger in her eyes.

'So, Ron, tell me, are you Hermione's boyfriend?' asked the old lady innocently. Hermione spat the tea she was about to swallow back out, fortunately into her cup. Ron, from whom the spit-your-drink reaction was more expected, surprisingly avoided the embarrassing act, thanks to a even more surprising reason: he had nothing in his mouth at the time. Unfortunately for him, the lack of drink spitting actually made him look even more of a clueless fool: he just sat blankly in place, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, struggling to come up with a good answer. Had he had his normal reaction, he could have used his faked choking-on-food time to think of a proper response to these types of questions instead.

'Yes, he is.' Came Hermione's voice next to him. A hand was intertwined into his own and was squeezing it with bone-crushing force.

'Oh really, that's fantastic, Herm dear.' Said the old lady blissfully, as if Christmas had come early. 'It's about time you found someone, dear. Why, when I was your age, I was already engaged…'

'Auntie, we don't live in those times anymore!' cried Hermione, a bit offended.

'…I'm so glad you found someone on your own', continued her great aunt, apparently not hearing her. 'I was going to set you up with this nice little boy living right across the hall too… I guess he's going to be disappointed.'

This time, Ron had something in his mouth, but managed to keep his tea from shooting out, opting instead for the much more life-threatening but far less embarrassing choking option instead. Hermione, releasing the death grip on Ron's hand, soothingly patted his back, and proceeded to explain Ron's shocked reaction: 'We met him in the hallway just now, auntie. I don't know how you can even think of him as a nice guy. He looked and acted just like uncle Jerry, you know, the one who got killed by one of the women he cheated on?'

'Oh honey, this boy is nothing like that!' replied the aged woman. 'Why, he's kind of shy, even! But very generous, and have been helping me with cleaning around the apartment. He's really nothing like your uncle Jerry.'

'Humph! Well, I don't see the point of talking about this anyway. I'm with Ron now (resumption of death grip), and I don't need to be set up with anyone else.' Concluded Hermione with such finality that even her great aunt would not dare to violate.

Sometime later, after a delicious homemade lunch that Hermione threatened an eager Ron to not help with (due to his extreme ignorance of muggle cooking methods), the pair said their good-byes to the old lady with the somewhat sincere promise of future visits.

'Well, that was nice for a change', mused Hermione. 'When she's not trying to set me up, she's just like the adoring auntie I remembered.' Unconsciously, though not unnoticed by Ron, Hermione did not touch up on her impromptu declaration of Ron being her boyfriend back at her great aunt's place. And with that, Ron and Hermione left her great aunt apartment building in much better moods than when they came in.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and something immediately felt wrong as they exited the apartment complex. First of all, the annoying presence of their escort from the Order was nowhere to be seen. And then, there was this hooded man with the typical dark-wizard-undercover look standing in front of them, twenty meters out, wand drawn.

'Run Hermione! I will stay and hold him off!' exclaimed Ron in a heroic and very melodramatic voice, drawing his wand. Turning to see if his secret love made it to the relative anonymity amongst the pedestrian traffic of a main street, Ron was not surprised at all to see Hermione standing beside him, wand drawn.

'Honestly, Ron', started Hermione, a bit miffed. 'There are two of us, and only one of him. If anyone should run away here, it should be him!'

'I wouldn't be so sure, Ms. Granger.' Said the man, obviously a somewhat polite death eater. From besides him, four more hooded figures popped out of thin air, all wearing identical clothes as the first dark wizard.

'Now would probably be a good time to run huh, Hermione', said Ron, half asking. Glancing beside him, he was surprised to find Hermione no longer there.

'Hurry up, Ron! Let's get out of here!' yelled Hermione from further down the street, spells already firing from her wand to cover Ron's late escape.

Surprisingly, the five men were pinned down long enough for Ron to join Hermione. Fleeing as quickly as they could, they (as in, Hermione) decided to dash left and right, hoping to confuse their pursuers. Hermione was, of course, leading, as she was partially acquainted with the neighborhood. Ron followed silently behind, still managing to spare quick looks of wonder at the many fascinating muggle stores they passed by. _Hmm… Adult bookstore, adult video store, adult clothes store, adult tattoo parlor, adult shooting range, adult toy store… Wow, muggle adults still play with toys?! _Thought Ron curiously. _I wonder what kind of stuff all these stores sell… Maybe I should ask Hermione… _

Little did he know how fortunate he was to be on the run at the moment, chased by five murderous dark wizards, and thus unable to talk to Hermione beyond a few concise words. For had he asked Hermione the things he wanted, he would have surely suffered a fate worse than death, such as, for example, having his reproductive capabilities shredded away strip by painful strip by his brushy haired companion, as some form of exorcism to his tainted questions, while said best friend philosophized on interesting issues like the pertinence of putting the word 'adult' in front of 'shooting range' and such.

--------------------

Six hours earlier…

Azkaban Fortress

Lord Voldemort was quite a happy man, if he could still be called a man. His little visit to the Daily Prophet turned out to be far more fruitful than he had expected. Since the visit, his death eater numbers had increased by a solid 50 percent, with even more pureblooded families from all over the world pledging their tacit support in the form of gold and other valuable resources.

Though Lord Voldemort himself considered the metal to be next to useless, he knew fully well how most of his death eaters, and other allies, treasured gold above almost all else. He could have conjured as much as he wanted, of course, but the power needed to render the conjured gold last for at least a few lifetimes (long enough to trick even the goblins) would have taxed his powers somewhat, and right now, Voldemort had other, more useful needs for his unmatched magical strength.

He was currently in his so called 'hall of magic', where he routinely performed spells of great power, and was about to try out a new and terrible summoning he had recently devised when a foolishly brave death eater dared to disturb him. Voldemort was mildly surprised when he realized that the death eater in question was none other than Lucius Malfoy, who knew enough about his Dark Lord's liking of interruptions to make whatever he was going to report something extravagantly troubling.

'My Lord, my sincerest apologies for this interruption', started Malfoy in a slightly shaky tone. Voldemort decided that he really didn't like where this was going. 'But a matter of great urgency has arisen that warrant your immediate attention.'

Voldemort merely nodded.

'The delivery of that magical artifact you've demanded as tribute from one of our middle-eastern allies was… disrupted.'

A glare from Voldemort made Lucius spill the rest of the story at a much faster rate: 'They were attacked and all stunned on the way from the island's port to the castle gates, master. Nobody saw the attacker, but when they woke up, the artifact was gone. All they saw was a figure flying away on broomstick. I've already sent teams in pursuit, but I'm afraid that the attacker has a significant lead on us, my lord… I thought perhaps that… that is, if…'

'You were wondering if I can use my powers to help you catch up?' asked Voldemort, highly amused. To have one of his death eaters daring to ask this almost-request of him would have been unthinkable during his first reign. But this time, Voldemort knew that if he was to hold dominion over the entire world, he had to be far more cunning, and that included agreeing with a request from one of his subordinates, especially if the request was a reasonable and useful one that would ultimately end up serving his own interests. In this case, the request was.

With a wave of his wand, five strange looking brooms appeared out of thin air.

'These should let you catch up', explained Voldemort hissingly. 'Go now, and take whoever you want with you. Do not return empty handed!'

'Yes my lord!' bowed Lucius, before collecting the broomsticks and rushing out, not believing his good fortune, and far more respectful of the Dark Lord than he had been when he entered the hall.

His concentration interrupted, Voldemort decided to do one final check with the men he was about to send on a mission he sincerely placed great importance upon. Striding into his informal throne room where many other death eaters were gathered for one reason or another, Voldemort simply intoned: 'Get me Rodolphus. I have things to say to him.'

--------------------

The eternally clouded skies above Azkaban, seemingly good cover for anyone attempting to sneak in or out of the fortress by air, were, in fact, one of the less deadly traps setup by the Dark Lord. The bolts of lightening that tend to descend down the clouds from time to time had a suspiciously nasty coincidence of striking near anything that was not scarred by the dark mark. Though not truly lethal except to the unluckiest of seabirds, it was, nevertheless, a great hindrance to any good-hearted flyer in the area.

Thus, the artifact thief hasn't even made it to the shore of the mainland (where the thief could have simply vanished into the cover of trees and other landscapes) before being caught up by Lucius' group of five death eaters.

Lucius smirked the patented Malfoy smile before launching into a series of hexes and jinxes intent on bringing down the thief in as nasty a way as possible. Around him, Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, Severus Snape, and some junior looking inexperienced death eater (who's name Lucius could not recall and who was probably going to bite the dust before the ordeal was over), fired their own spells at the gray cloak covered figure in front of them. The figure, somehow sensing the incoming spells, managed to perform some very impressive moves, and improbably dodged all the spells aimed at him before diving toward the ground, seeking shelter within the not so dense forests of the area. Bellatrix, Dolohov, and the junior death eater gave chase, while Lucius and Snape flew overhead to cover the figure's escape.

As Snape watched the figure zigzagging through the trees and other ground covers, he couldn't help notice the incredibly smooth and natural fashion in which the thief had woven his way through the foliage, a feat achievable only by someone who was born to fly. And it showed: Bellatrix and Dolohov were starting to fall behind, and the junior death eater had already predictably bitten the dust… literally. _Hmm… skinny… and around his height. I'd have thought it's him for sure if he isn't already dead_, thought Snape morbidly, as he and Lucius started to bombard the fleeing thief with a torrent of spells in an effort to slow him down.

Six hours and two near collisions later (Lucius had insisted on teaching a lesson to the last muggle flying machine that almost rammed into them), the four remaining death eaters were somewhat closer to catching the thief. During the six hours of gruesome flying, the death eater team tried everything they could think of, from flying ahead of the figure with their faster brooms in an effort to cut him off, to pinching the figure from both sides in an effort to hinder his spell dodging maneuverability; the figure had always, somehow, managed to out fly them. Though their efforts didn't go entirely wasted: the numerous spells sent at the thief and his erratic dodgy flight through the forest, not to mention the neck-breaking stunts the figure was sometimes forced to pull, had visibly taken their toll on the flyer. His cloak was now torn in many places, with the visible parts of his slender body all covered with many bruises, and the thief seemed to be bleeding heavily from the numerous spell injuries he had sustained. How the person still managed to fly, and even kept avoiding, more or less successfully, their spells, was beyond Snape's comprehension. Though all five flyers knew that it was now only a matter of time before the death eaters would prevail.

The figure suddenly pulled up from the ground, making a mad dash toward the cover of the clouds that looked to be right above what Snape recognized as the city of London. Lucius yelled for Snape to follow the figure into the clouds, explaining that Lucius himself would try to go above the gray mists in an effort to cut the thief off. Lestrange and Dolohov were, just now, pulling up with their own brooms, exhaust evident in their eyes, and signaled with hand gestures that they'd be looking out from under the clouds for any sign of their slippery prey.

Snape deftly flew into the clouds, hot on the thief's trail, though very soon, he lost track of the figure. Visibility was almost null inside the vaporous water formations, and, in all honesty, Snape didn't really want to put that much effort in tracking down the thief. After all, though he may be wearing the traditional death eater garments, and the iconic death eater mask, he was a spy for Dumbledore, and successfully tracking down one of Voldemort's enemies wasn't really a priority for him.

Unfortunately for Snape, the thief either didn't care, or more likely, didn't know, who Snape was, probably because Snape was dressed and masked like all the other death eaters. Thus, it was with great irony that Snape, the only death eater not bent on capturing the thief, came face to face with the slippery flyer's greatest attack: a fireball the size of a small car. Snape, not exactly an incompetent fool like some of his fellow death eaters use to be, managed to raise a fierce fire shield around him before veering left, in the hopes of dodging the ball of fire. He was partially successful, having only been caught within the outer flames of the spherical inferno.

Thus, Snape survived through, badly burned, barely conscious, but still alive. Regrettably, his broomstick did not fare as well. Its unprotected ends, not covered by Snape's shield, were now nothing more than ashes, and dispersed into the wind before Snape's eyes. Knowing exactly what this meant, Snape concentrated every ounce of energy he had left and, having by this point already fallen out of the foggy clouds, focused his sights on the sprawling city below. Snape knew he probably only had enough energy left for a very short apparition, and must thus find a target by sight as fast as he could if he was to survive this ordeal. Unable to correctly gauge the distance between his falling body and the blurry ground below, Snape decided to focus on a fairly visible dot of red almost directly below him. Hoping against hope that the red dot was what he thought, Snape roughly estimated the distance between a red dot sized head and his accelerating body, and apparated away in midair.

--------------------

Bellatrix Lestrange saw from afar the falling shape that was Severus Snape. She was still debating on the usefulness of rescuing her fellow death eater when he apparated away. Assuming that Snape was more or less safe, Bellatrix decided to end this annoying game of hide-and-seek. Yelling to Dolohov to follow her lead, both death eaters simultaneously cast the strongest wind spell they could think of. Bellatrix used a twister charm, while Dolohov created a giant, exploding balloon of compressed air; both spells having quite a large area of effect. The result was quite spectacular, as the gray mists giving the thief cover were blown away in a style reminiscent of an opening vortex.

Lucius, spotting their elusive prey from high above, decided to bring the figure down the old fashioned way: he dove toward the visibly exhausted figure with all the speed he could muster (which, on Voldemort's handmade broom, was quite a lot), and rammed heavily into the thief, causing the figure to fall off his broom and drop the prized artifact he was holding. Diving only slightly more to catch the obviously fragile artifact in mid-air, Lucius vindictively sent a killing curse in the wake of the falling body of their more than annoying prey, though Lucius secretly hoped the thief would die painfully from his fall first.

'Let's head back', said Lucius to the approaching figures of Bellatrix and Dolohov.

'Shouldn't we look for Snape?' Dolohov asked half-heartedly.

'Severus can take care of himself', replied Lucius confidently. 'Otherwise, he would not be worth our time anyway.'

Slightly confused by the comment, Dolohov gingerly followed the other two death eaters back to their stronghold, artifact safely recovered.

--------------------

Two days earlier…

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place

'… and he's been gathering all the magical artifacts he can get his hands on.' Snape reported before the local assembly of the Order, Remus Lupin surprisingly amongst them.

'Do you know what Voldemort is seeking?' Inquired a pensive Dumbledore, looking at Snape.

'I have no idea what the Dark Lord is looking for, if he's even looking for anything in particular.' Replied the potions master in a smooth tone. 'And also, after that fiasco at the ministry, the Dark Lord has been personally instructing death eaters of all ranks. He was really not pleased that six teenagers managed to thwart a dozen of his most prized death eaters.' Here, Snape was interrupted by some mocking laughs coming from the more rowdy members of the Order, Mundungus Fletcher chief amongst them.

'I wouldn't be so cheerful if I were you, Fletcher', sneered Snape coldly. 'The Dark Lord's training methods, though painfully unorthodox, have been incredibly effective. I would wager that any single death eater could now at least hold his own, if not down right win, against two or more fully trained aurors. Needless to say that this is going to significantly decrease any numerical advantage the ministry had over the death eaters… Though I do not wish to speak ill of the dead, I can safely say that this is all thanks to Potter and his little…'

'Severus, please. Continue with your report, I believe personal opinions can wait till after we've heard all there is to know?' Cut in Dumbledore sharply, though not without grace.

'Well, just one more thing: the Dark Lord does not like how the wizarding world seems to think of him and his death eaters as mere terrorists to be feared for the odd killings here and there in England. He seems to be seeking much, much more respect than that now. The Dark Lord wishes to be perceived and feared as a legitimate world conqueror, and I get the impression he's going to do something about that very soon.'

'Any ideas on what he plans to do?' Inquired Tonks, still a bit gloomy over Harry's death.

'Well, if I did have 'any ideas', I would have told you, wouldn't I?' Replied Snape sarcastically.

'What I wonder is how he plans to take on the world, even with the increase in numbers of his death eaters and taking into account this one-to-two casualty ratio you mentioned.' Stated Remus Lupin, who had seemingly returned to his normal, composed self after the unusual outburst on the night of Harry's death.

'Well, Lupin', sneered Snape, triumphant glint in his eyes on the opportunity to ridicule the last remaining member of a group that had tortured him countless times during his youth. 'If you haven't walked out on us the other night and haven't skipped several meetings afterwards to satisfy your childish sulking needs, you would have heard me mentioning that the Dark Lord has gathered many dark allies to him from all over the world, and has even been summoning unspeakable creatures of his own to his aid.'

'And what kind of creatures are these?' Inquired a curious Dumbledore, trying to forestall what was building up to be another great argument between Lupin and Snape.

'Only those within the Inner Circle have ever been allowed to glimpse them', murmured Snape. 'Though from time to time, the rest of us can hear the creatures' horrid screams and dark rumbles throughout the castle. The sounds are… blood chilling…' whispered Snape, suppressing a shudder.

There was a collective but silent gasp of surprise at Snape's unusual confession. All present knew that Severus Snape was a man who had seen many horrors in his life, and there are but a very few things left in the world that could still affect his impassive demeanor. Even more rare was seeing Severus Snape admit to being afraid of something. Thus, hearing him doing so could only mean one thing: whatever creatures Voldemort has summoned must be beyond the wildest terrors of the world.

Remus Lupin, though slightly worried by the unsettling news from Snape, still took the entire meeting in with a mental smirk. He had played along when Dumbledore personally visited him at his flat and invited him back, saying things like 'hope you've calmed down now' and 'do you still wish to leave the Order' in his usually justified I-know-it-all-but-am-pretending-I-don't voice. Though on that particular day, Dumbledore did not know all that was going through Remus' head.

After his impetuous declaration of quitting the Order three weeks earlier, Remus had had time to think about the situation logically, and concluded that the best way he could be of help to his best friends' son, Harry, was to gather as much information as he could about anything that could be of use, or would be of concern to Harry, to be given to the boy when he resurfaced. After all, wasn't it the lack of information that drove Harry to take the drastic step he had taken in the first place? Remus knew in his heart that he probably should have been much more transparent with Harry in the first place, like Sirius had been, and was determined to be of help to Harry in any way he can this time around. After all, a boy who stood up to the Dark Lord a good five times now certainly deserved to be in this self-righteous Order of the Phoenix, much more so than most people present. And yet, Dumbledore and the others continuously deny Harry anything that could remotely help him better survive, under the pretext of wanting to shield the boy from the atrocities of the world. Thinking about how 'un-horrible' Harry's life has been so far thanks to the 'shielding', Remus' guilty remorse at all the crying Molly Weasley had been doing for the past three weeks was replaced by a hardened resolve to become Harry's informal informant within the Order.

------------------------------

Meanwhile at the Burrow…

Two teenagers sat around the kitchen table, holding their own secret little counsel, along with their eave dropping wards and all, just as they have been doing for the past few weeks.

'You really could have used less power on that new stunning charm you learned, you know', complained the red-haired boy, hoping to extract some form of pity and maybe even a hug from his brushy haired friend.

'Oh honestly Ron!' exclaimed Hermione with her trademark phrase. 'That spell only dazed you for a bit! You've had much worse at the ministry! Now remember, if I ever use the spell out there, you need to duck and crouch down right besides me as soon as you see me raise my wand, ok? Otherwise, you'd be hit too.'

'Right!' Agreed Ron eagerly. 'And I will try to pick off as many enemies as possible while they are dazed by your spell.'

'Right.' Concurred Hermione. 'What do we need to learn next?'

Without waiting for an answer, Hermione eagerly snatched her planner from Ron's hands, who had just began to read it in order to answer her question.

'Well, we've already covered quite a few general offensive and defensive spells', murmured Hermione mostly to herself. 'Looks like we need to work on specialized spells like dark creature counters and detection charms and the such.'

'What about transfiguration?' Asked Ron with alacrity, due to one specific reason. 'You think we should try to become animaguses? I'm sure where ever Harry is, he's sure to make animagus training one of his uttermost priorities. Everyone's practically assuming he'd be one. And if we don't become animagus too, we can't be of help to Harry when he comes back all mighty and powerful. In fact, we may have to beg him to still hang around us!'

'Really?' questioned Hermione skeptically, one eyebrow raised. 'Who's _everyone_? And didn't you say you are going to pound Harry into a bloody pulp boneby bone next time you see him? You know, for making your mom and sister cry so much?'

'Well, I'll do that first for sure!' Declared Ron darkly.

'And then beg him to hang around you? Hmm… You're actually making more sense then I first thought' declared Hermione dryly. 'Honestly Ron, I really don't know where you get all these notions from. Granted, we need to raise our level of proficiency so that we can keep up with Harry when he comes back from his secret training, but to assume he'd be all mighty and powerful, and an animagus…'

'Well', cut in Ron, switching to his arguing-with-Hermione mode. 'Professor Lupin told us that's what Harry planned to do, no?'

'No Ron!' Hermione argued back. 'What Remus said was that Harry was tired to be pampered with baby-gloves by everyone, so he simply went away to find his own solution to his V-V-Voldemort (flinch from Ron) problem. He never said Harry would become an animagus!'

'Oh… yeah, you're right.' Conceded Ron uncharacteristically. Suddenly realizing something, Ron added: 'Hey Hermione, I've always wondered about something else. You're muggle-born, no? Doesn't that mean that you never even heard of You-Know-Who before you came to Hogwarts? So then why are you so afraid to say his name? Shouldn't you be like Harry and just pronounce it without stuttering?'

'Oh… err… well…' Struggled Hermione, an embarrassed look on her face. 'Alright, I will explain… But if you laugh at me, I will curse you to look like a Malfoy for the rest of your life! …See, before I came to Hogwarts, I've read all the books about the wizarding world I can get my hands on, and that included a lot of books on the dark arts and such. Back then, I tend to read books till I fall asleep. So I've had many horrible nightmares about V-Voldemort and other dark wizards, probably because of what I read just before falling asleep. I guess those dreams combined with my ignorance and awe at the wizarding world back then kind of made my imagination run wild, and the books about the dark arts were certainly not helping quell any of the fears I had… Quite the opposite, in fact. And since I was a naïve and trusting ten year old who worshipped books as the ultimate authority back in those days, I guess I just… well… sort of instilled this fear of Volde..mort onto myself without realizing it.' Concluded Hermione, eyes glazed, looking into her past. Obviously, she had already reflected on this very subject. She snapped back to reality and turned to her redheaded friend, expecting mocking laughter and the need to make good on her earlier threat.

'Well… that is… really weird.' Said Ron in all honesty, an incredulous look on his face. 'You actually made yourself fear You-Know-Who in the space of a few weeks? With nothing but books?'

'I was only ten back then!' Defended Hermione, cheeks flushed. 'Anyway, back to the subject of animagus training. Humph. Yes. Where was I? Ah yes. Right… Let me see… Yes. I think we can do it. IF we are even destined to be animaguses at all, that is. They are very rare you know.'

Ron was about to comment on his best friend and secret love's obvious attempt at changing the subject and subsequent rambling when a brown postal owl tapped professionally on the kitchen window, a muggle envelope in her claws.

'It must be from my parents', said Hermione, also noticing the envelope.

After a quick read, Hermione sighed in exasperation.

'What is it?' asked Ron, ever curious of Hermione's correspondences.

'It's from my mom', Started Hermione, still in a sour mood. 'She wants me to pay a visit to my great aunt in London. Apparently, my great aunt has been begging my mom for me to visit her for a couple of weeks now. Something about making me meet this nice boy who moved into her building. Humph! Honestly, why does she keep…'

But Ron had already stopped listening after the 'meet nice boy' part. 'I will go with you!' Said Ron in such a determined tone that even Hermione hesitated to argue against.

'Err…?'

'Well… You might be attacked and stuff… And I also wanted to see muggle London for a while… Yeah! That's right. I want to learn about London and muggle stuff more', tried Ron with this latest argument that would usually have Hermione agreeing in no time. 'And, and… I don't want you to dessert me like Harry did!'

'Hmm… Ok', replied Hermione after some quick thinking, forgetting to take affront at Ron's remarks. She had her own reasons for bringing Ron along, reasons that were far less learning related.

'Great!' Replied Ron, not expecting to have Hermione agree so quickly. Ron decided to change the subject before Hermione changed her mind. 'So! This animagus thing, what kind of things do you need?'

'Well, we will need Fred and George to buy us rare and hard to come buy potion ingredients without anyone asking questions', started Hermione, back in her element. 'And we'll also need your dad to take us to the ministry.'

'What for?'

'We need to take a look into this mirror that can reveal to potential animaguses their animal forms', explained Hermione, a bit annoyed by Ron's ignorance. After all, he's the one born inside the wizarding world, shouldn't he know some things at least?

'There is also another of these mirrors at Hogwarts, but I think it'd be easier for us to use the one in the ministry. It's not really a restricted artifact, just rare', continued Hermione, as if reciting from a book (which she probably was). 'But you should know that once you look into the mirror, and should you see an animal, you will be forever bound to that form. There is a much slower process where a potential animagus can choose the form he or she wants, but that process would take years and years of meditation and other such time consuming preparations. I think professor McGonagall tried that one, but even she eventually gave up and used the mirror. It really isn't such a loss, they can't chose magical creatures with that longer path either, and the mirror is simply reflecting (if at all) our inner most beliefs in the form of an animal. So in essence, we'd usually see a form we'd be really happy with anyway. The trick for us would be to pretend we saw nothing so the ministry personnel managing the mirror would not register us. Well, assuming we'd see anything in the first place, of course.'

'You… are… voluntarily breaking rules?' Asked Ron, deciding he liked how Hermione was changing.

'Well, I've never seen such an irresponsible government, and there are a lot of death eater spies within the ministry', answered Hermione evenly. 'So I see no harm in breaking the rules… for now.'

'Wow…' Ron intoned, not really knowing what to say. 'You mentioned that we need to brew potions? Are they complicated? Do you think Harry would be able to brew them? If he's to become an animagus, he will have to, no?'

'Hmm…' Mused Hermione, chewing on her bottom lip. 'If he put his mind to it, I think he'll be fine. And if I know Harry, I'm sure he must be dedicating all his waking moments toward training really hard and learning as much as he can!'

'Yeah, I couldn't agree more', concurred Ron, nodding his head, thinking back to all the training and research his best mate did during the triwizard tournament. 'Harry has always been such a determined person when the need was there. With Voldemort on the rise, I'm sure no amount of distraction in this world can sidetrack Harry from his training this time around! We'd better work hard ourselves so we won't seem too useless when he comes back!'

--------------------

Three weeks earlier…

Harry was gazing fondly at the retreating figure of Celeste, until he could see her no more. She had walked him home after their encounter with the three muggle thugs earlier in the day, and, after making sure he wasn't going to do something crazy, gracefully said her goodbyes. And she had promised to visit him again too, on tomorrow afternoon, no less. Something about checking up on him to see if his headache went away. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd have thought that she almost felt guilty for him having a headache. As it was, Harry thought she was just being overly concerned, and thus concluded that she must be a really caring girl.

The-Boy-Who-Lived sighed, perhaps for the very first time of his life, in happiness...

If you like this story, please REVIEW! More reviews equal happier me! Happier me equals faster updates!

So please, please just let me know what you think of anything: writing style, plotline, character development, or lack there of, etc. I swear, I'm getting really desperate to know if anyone has been reading this at all! So, like or hate, please REVIEW!!!

* * *

A/N: 

First and Most (as opposed to last and least): I put all the replies to any reviews I got into a review of my own! I did this so I can concentrate this space for actual story text (and ANs :).So check the reviews page for the last chapter to see my replies to your reviews, especially if you've made a provocative one last time!

Second: Sorry for the late update. This and the next chapter were originally supposed to be a single chapter. I had to split them up because it was getting waaaaay too long (over 10000 words! Which is about the size of my story so far!). So, when you read the next chapy, think of this one too, the story would make much, much more sense.

Solarum spell: is of course, my own invention. If you're confused about how it works, think of one of those really really flat conic Chinese 'hats'. Basically, the spell cover an surface kind of like a really short, but really wide at the base, cone. So that's the surface area Hermione's spell covered. And that's how Ron, if he's kneeled down close enough to Hermione, won't get hit while most people near Hermione are sure to be hit.

Alrite, off to x-mas leftover dinner for me!

Oh, one last thing... but certainly not the least:Please REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!!


	6. Back and Forth, Path II: Forth

AN: Sorry for posting so late. I'm back in school and the start of the term had been a bit crazy. Also, since there had been only five reviews last time, does that mean only five people have read my story? I was somewhat put down by that and had understandably less eagerness for finishing this chapter fast. But I did finish it!

**To returning readers: **If you read this story before 25/02/05: I have compressed the old chapter one and two into a single chapter and added an **all new chapter two**! Go read it if you haven't already (and review it)!

I really **urge you to review** even if it's just to say the story sucks, or it is good. I need guidance to know if I'm doing this right and what people think of this!

**REMEMBER!** The last chapter (chap. 5) and this one goes together! It is imperative that you've **read the last chapter** in order to understand this one. If it has been awhile since you read chapter 5, I advise you to go read it again. Otherwise, this chapter won't make too much sense.

Chapter 6

Back and Forth, Path II: Forth

Harry was gazing fondly at the retreating figure of Celeste, until he could see her no more. She had walked him home after their encounter with the three muggle thugs earlier in the day, and, after making sure he wasn't going to do something crazy, gracefully said her goodbyes. And she had promised to visit him again too, on tomorrow afternoon, no less. Something about checking up on him to see if his headache went away. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd have thought that she almost felt guilty for him having a headache. As it was, Harry thought she was just being overly concerned, and thus concluded that she must be a really caring girl. The-Boy-Who-Lived sighed, perhaps for the very first time of his life, in happiness.

Harry reluctantly went back into his apartment building, well after Celeste had disappeared from view, feeling oddly at peace with the world despite the tremendously precarious predicament he was currently in and the numerous lethal challenges that he still had to face. _Ah, that's right… Guess I should get to it_, thought Harry of the mind-numbing problems that had caused him to go for an ice cream break in the first place. _After all, getting to 'it' was the whole reason why I faked my own death._

Thus, it was with renewed vigor that Harry picked up a summary of some facts, interlaced here and there with Harry's own thoughts and notes, that he had made earlier in the day. It was the cumulation of a whole day of pensive reflections on what he, Harry Potter, can possibly do to defeat Voldemort. It was made with a few assumptions Harry had in mind, the least of which was that, with the way things were going (or deteriorating), he, Harry, would have to face the Dark Lord soon, either as a coward when the last of his protector fell in his defense, or as the Dark Lord's equal, standing up to the abomination for all he was worth, like his father before him. There was, of course, no question as to which one Harry wanted. Thus, assuming that he only had a couple of years at most to prepare for THE fight, Harry's summary read as follows:

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Prophecy:

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.'

Obviously, I have some power Voldie knows not. And that will be my only ace against him.

Dumbledore told me that in the Department of Mysteries there is a room that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force more wonderful and terrible than death, than human intelligence, then the forces of nature, or something like that. It's also the most mysterious. Apparently, I possess this power in a huge quantity and Voldie has none.

Why, why can't that old man talk in English! We are talking about saving my life and the world here! Why does he still use riddles like that! What does he think we are playing at! Yoda and Luke?

Oh well, probably shouldn't have written that down. Let me cross it.

Ok, so this power took me to save Sirius, and also, somehow, saved me from possession by Voldemort, because Dumbledore thinks Voldie could not bear to reside in a body full of this force he detests.

Dumbledore thinks this force is 'love'.

I was thinking of being able to join Sirius when Voldemort released my mind. So was that 'love'? Is 'love' the power?

Things I'm really really good at:

Flying on a broom (and Quidditch)

Patronus Charm

Summoning Charm

Parseltongue

Cooking

(Good field improvisation)

Things I'm good at that the Dark Lord doesn't know about:

Cooking…

Powers I can acquire in the next couple of years that can defeat Voldie with:

Nothing that Dumbledore isn't already better at than I can possibly be in a few years time…

Conclusions:

If the prophecy and Dumbledore's words about this power are to be believed, then I should already have this power, and no quantity of conventional training will truly help me bring out this power.

No amount of normal learning I can do will help me defeat the Dark Lord, since Dumbledore is already way better than anyone in anything that I can possibly learn from books, and he still almost got killed if it weren't for Fawkes. I will stand no chance with only a couple years of training… Aurors would have a better chance than me.

I will obviously NOT defeat Voldemort with my cooking. Or can I… Nah, can't.

Things I'm not sure of:

According to the prophecy, I can only be killed by Voldemort. How is this possible?

Is the power I have in abundance 'love'? I sure don't feel all that loving… Can Dumbledore's words be really taken to the letter so seriously like this?

Dumbledore's words… And his ability to think correctly.

Things to do:

Find out what this power really is, and train myself to wield it with good control. Or obtain it, if it turns out I don't have it already.

Find out if I can only be killed by Voldemort. Note to self: Don't do something stupid.

Give Dumbledore a piece of my mind next time I see him.

Train myself in some things in the meantime to avoid getting captured by death eaters.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Harry decided to add the following to the last sentence: '…or beat up by muggles.'

Revising his list of things to do, Harry decided that the last item on the list is probably the easiest to start with.

Demonstrating reasoning abilities that would have impressed Hermione (impressed her because it came from Harry, that is), Harry decided to make a mental list of all the weaknesses about the death eaters that he might be able to exploit_: Hmm… let's see… they are usually pretty easy to spot, with their dark robes and white masks and all… They really think a lot of themselves, though not without reason… They tend to hate each other and are easily provoked… one might turn them against each other, but not really likely… They hate muggles but don't know anything about them… They tend to in-bree... Wait, that's it! They hate muggles! That means most death eaters probably never bothered to learn anything about muggles!_ Concluded Harry excitedly. _All I have to do is to use this big ignorance against them!_

After a while, Harry was far less excited. _Well, _Harry thought moodily_, there isn't anything that muggles have that can help me here. Even if I can think of something, most electronics won't work well around magic, so most muggle devices would be easily countered…Man thinking is tiring…Maybe inspiration will come to me if I just rest a while…_

But inspiration did not come to Harry. In fact, he fell asleep on the sofa, waking up the next day in a very uncomfortable position, with muscle strains all over his body, and still no inspiration. _Well, at least I know that karate lessons should help me 'avoid getting beat up by muggles'. So that's one problem solved_, thought Harry as he made and ate breakfast. _Just need to find a place around._

Deciding to take care of the other, more obvious and magical part of his training, Harry deftly slipped on his gray cloak and headed out, once again, for the street that never ceased to fascinate him: Diagon Alley.

……………………….

Entering into Flourish and Blotts, Harry instinctively checked to make sure the hood of his cloak was still securely pulled over his head, even though knowing full well that it was charmed to never fall off by itself.

Not looking around, Harry immediately proceeded to seek out the books he needed. One was, of course, a book of stronger offensive and defensive spells. The other was a book on learning to apparate, which he figured to be a nice thing to master for someone on the run. Finally, with the events and lessons from his fourth year still well imprinted on his mind, Harry decided to try and master the making of portkeys. After all, a portkey did save his life, even though said portkey was also responsible for him being in danger in the first place.

After finding intuitive books on the last two subjects he wanted to learn about, and an overwhelming number of choices on the first, Harry decided to pick up two books on the subject of offense and defense, rather than just one. The two books he bought, not surprisingly one on offense and one on defense, started with spells that merely expanded on what Harry already knew, but eventually progressed to mind boggling hexes and charms that Harry doubted even Lupin can pull off.

Harry then proceeded to have an innocent little chat with the storeowner about animagus, and how to become one and such. After a good deal of head nodding and subtle (or so Harry thought!) conversation steering, Harry had reluctantly decided to forego trying to become an animagus, for the time being. Turned out that in addition to being an innate potential that very few wizards possess, becoming an animagus not only involved constant and dedicated training time, which Harry did not have, but also required complex potions and access to a fairly rare magical object. Currently, on the whole isle of Britain, only the ministry and Hogwarts had access to such an object, a mirror of sorts, and Harry wouldn't even think of trying to go anywhere near those places.

Harry was just about to check out at the counter when something else caught his eye. It was a book on transfiguration, or more specifically, it dealt with the art of object animation. Remembering the way Dumbledore fought at the ministry, Harry decided that it would be an interesting skill to have, though he doubted that he could achieve anywhere near the mastery Dumbledore showed. _Still, it could be an interesting read_, thought Harry as he made his way to the counter with all five books, _and it's not like I am short on money_.

'You're short one sickle, sir.' Said the store cashier boringly.

'What?' exclaimed Harry, searching frantically around for loose change. _How could I have run out so quickly? I had almost a thousand galleons on me!_ Harry thought, baffled. Though another part of his mind, in an almost patronizing voice, informed him calmly that buying a rare and illegal creature from the black market, and renting a flat on really short notice would easily make a dent in anyone's pocket. Finally finding some left over galleons from who knew when, Harry hurriedly paid the man and made his way out, mechanically pulling on his already well fastened hood once more.

……………………….

On his way back from the Alley, Harry walked down a street of dubious shops that were shockingly close to his fairly decent apartment building. _Hmm… A shooting gallery? Hey, maybe I can get a gun and surprise those death eaters!_ Thought Harry excitedly. However, he quickly realized one big problem with this simple plan: he was a fifteen (soon to be sixteen) years old kid. No sane person would sell him a gun, much less let him practice in a shooting gallery.

Walking dejectedly back to his apartment building, Harry saw a fairly diminutive lady trying to climb the stairs with a really large package. Harry did not hesitate.

'Ah, thank you, young man', said the old lady while she and a now package and books laden Harry climbed the stairs. 'I just got this weird shaped pillow from my good niece. She's a doctor, you know, or something like that. She said it is suppose to help me sleep better at night. Apparently, it's has this shape that's…'

Amid the small talk, Harry was amazed to discover that the old lady lived on the same floor as him, and was even more amazed to find out that she lived right across from him.

Arriving at their floor, Harry generously offered to bring the somewhat heavy pillow into the lady's apartment. Once there, and deciding to be a nice guy till the end, Harry unpacked the soft and ergonomically shaped cushion and set it on the old lady's bed. It was while he was setting the pillow down that Harry saw something that triggered unbidden memories to flash in his mind, memories that eventually led to the formation of another maniacal plan of Harry's: a string of hair. Harry deftly picked up the hair, under the pretense of trying to dust the bed sheets. Mistaking his intentions, the old lady generously offered him a dust remover, and thanked him in a sincere voice for his kind help in cleaning the room before strolling off murmuring about baking cookies to reward Harry's kindness. Already feeling guilty for what he was going to do, Harry decided to play along and dusted the room in an impressively professional manner, having already had loads of practice at the Dursley's. Along the way, Harry decided to generously cast a few duplicate charms on some old IDs that the old lady left lying around the room. _This isn't really criminal… it's not like I am going to spend her money or anything_, Harry thought, trying to reassure himself.

……………………….

Having just gotten back to his own apartment (after many cookies and even more small talk with the old lady, whom Harry found out to be named Helen), Harry was slightly annoyed when he heard a knock on his door. Thinking that it was Helen once again, Harry peremptorily yelled out that he was a bit busy before opening the door, and immediately felt like a fool. Standing there in the doorframe was Celeste, dressed in a simple white ensemble that somehow managed to enliven the also white painted corridors of the building.

'You are? I'm sorry to bother' started Celeste, in a tone that Harry biasly thought to be a bit disappointed. 'I won't be long then, just wanted to make sure your head is ok.'

'Oh no, I'm not busy! Please come in', invited Harry, blushing less than yesterday.

And with that, Harry proceeded to explain about the conversation he just had with Helen and how he thought she was knocking on his door for another chat. Celeste simply nodded her head at all the right places, and praised Harry for his generosity in helping the old lady, which made Harry feel even guiltier about the maniacal plan he would soon set in motion using the old lady's things. He wanted to tell Celeste about his ulterior motives, of course. But, looking at the innocent smile that Celeste was currently giving him, Harry just couldn't bring himself to shatter the seemingly peaceful life of the beautiful girl with explanations about the nightmarish challenges that he, and, should he fail, the rest of the wizarding world, needed to face; explanations that were fairly necessary in order to justify what Harry planned to do. Sighing heavily, Harry slumped into a depressive silence.

'Harry, what's wrong?' Asked Celeste, surprised by Harry's sighing response to a well-deserved praise. _Uh oh... Maybe I did over do it with that memory wipe. Maybe I have messed up his head really badly, and that's why instead of giving a positive response like he's suppose to when praised, he's doing the exact opposite! _Thought Celeste, panicking. _But he seemed fine just a minute ago… This is really bad! What do I do! What do I do! I really hope he's just remembered something depressing in his life, and nothing else…_

'Are you sad because you just remembered some horribly depressing event?' Asked Celeste naively, completely tactless.

Meanwhile, Harry's mind was working in overdrive. Shortly after letting out the depressive sigh, Harry realized that he was doing to Celeste almost exactly what Dumbledore did to him over the years: keeping him in the dark under the pretense of shielding him from harm. The significant difference here being that Harry didn't know yet if he could even trust Celeste, despite an internal instinct that told him he could do so, whereas Dumbledore knew from the start that Harry could be trusted, what with Harry's role in the prophecy and all. He was still debating on what to do when the incredibly direct and inconsiderate question from Celeste registered in his brain.

'Err… sort of…' started Harry, still trying to decipher what he just heard. Deciding to dodge the question, Harry, equally tactless, asked instead: 'Celeste, you're obviously a witch, so what do you know about Voldemort?'

Interestingly, Celeste did not flinch at the name, but had a very different reaction to it: her innocent expression was immediately replaced by one that Harry found puzzling, to say the least. It cannot quite be described with a single word. It was as if she was hateful and determined, but yet curious and even eager all at once. All in all, Celeste seemed like an entirely different person than the innocent, wide-eyed, smiling girl that brightened his doorframe just a moment ago.

'I know of him, though I do not nearly know enough about him', replied Celeste rigidly.

'Then would you know about his fall and recent rise?' asked Harry probingly. After all, anyone who knew about Voldemort's fall or second rise would know about him, Harry.

'Hmm… I know he almost died years ago, and that his 'spirit' wandered through many places over the years…' whispered Celeste, a far away look in her eyes. 'Too many, in fact…' She had whispered the last part almost inaudibly, though Harry did manage to catch the gist of it.

'Do you come from one of these places his 'spirit' wandered to?' Asked Harry, drawing conclusions from what he heard. 'Would that be Europe, somewhere?'

'Yes. I… lived close to one of the places his essence traveled too', started Celeste, chewing on her words in a manner Harry knew only too well. He himself did it many times when he needed to conceal the truth while still trying to answer without telling any lies. 'It's a place… fairly isolated from the rest of the world, we don't usually get news from the outside.' She continued, still talking at a somewhat slower pace. 'The… leaders of my country suspect that he… stole a powerful magical artifact while he was there. They sent me here to confirm their suspicions.'

'Oh', muttered Harry, struggling to comprehend why the leaders of a country would send a twenty year old to do such a dangerous task, especially since she had to rely on his 'help' yesterday to take care of three muggle thugs, not even wondering about how Voldemort's immaterial spirit could have stolen anything. Celeste once again, interrupted his thoughts.

'Why are we talking about such depressing things, Harry?' asked Celeste, innocence returned. 'Wouldn't you rather go out and explore the city? There are so many interesting things all over the place. I really wish I could see and experience them all!'

'Um…' hesitated Harry, understandably conflicted between spending time with a beautiful girl and getting started on some much needed training. In the end, Harry figured out the perfect solution. 'Well, I do need to find this place to learn some karate or the like. How about we go around and look for it? I can show you all the places you want along the way.'

'That sounds nice.' Celeste replied sincerely. She was truly amazed at the sights of the city, and jumped at the chance to have someone show her around. 'What are we waiting for?'

……………………….

Harry, covered by his muggle disguise, and Celeste, white ensemble toned down by a jacket of a slightly less, though immaculate, white shade, walked around the neighborhood aimlessly, with Celeste pointing at all the curious stores along the road and Harry patiently explaining everything to her. Harry assumed that Celeste must be from a really small country, and an even more isolated magical community within it to be so impressed by the simplest little things.

Harry thought that she was behaving much like a child going into a giant toy store for the very first time, so happy and carefree. Looking at Celeste's untroubled, and joyful eyes, Harry couldn't help but wish that he could go back to a time when he was also so content with the world.

Thinking back carefully, Harry suddenly realized that there actually had not been any time in his life when he felt as relaxed as Celeste seemed to be right now. Growing up, he had always lived in his cousin's shadow, constantly hiding from Dudley and his gang out to beat him up, or from his merciless aunt and uncle out to exploit him. Later, when he thought he had finally found freedom within the walls of Hogwarts, it was only to come face to face with an even greater danger. Had it not been for Hermione and Ron, Harry wasn't even sure that he could have endured beyond his second year at the school. Perhaps he would have went crawling back to his uncle, agreeing with everything they said about magic, and begging to be let into their freak-phobia club, swearing to renounce the wizarding world and all its baggage forever…

_Would I truly have done that?_ Thought Harry darkly. _No, no, no! No matter how hard things are, I would never have disgraced my parents by sinking to the Dursley's level! Besides, I do have Hermione and Ron… And we did have, no, still have, some fun times together, even if these times are getting farther in between and fewer now…_

'Hey, why are you so gloomy, Harry?' Came the voice of Celeste, accompanied by a good-natured slap to the back, startling Harry out of his disquiet thoughts. Their eyes locked, and it was as if an equalization process had taken place. Harry was brought out of his dejection with his life by the jovial eyes of Celeste. At the same time, Celeste's childlike expression was toned down to a serious one by Harry's melancholic look.

For some reason, Harry found himself explaining away some of his less than unfair life to Celeste, a somewhat total stranger. Harry did manage however, through all the emotions, to limit the information he was giving out, restricting his exposition to the earlier parts of his childhood. Harry also took great pains to not come across as a whiner, for obvious reasons.

'But you still turned out to be such a caring and generous person, did you not?' Remarked Celeste soothingly after Harry finished. Harry briefly wondered how she could possibly know that he was caring and generous. Celeste interrupted his thoughts: 'Have you ever thought that perhaps you would not have such a kind spirit had your past been different?'

'I…' Harry was speechless. He had never thought of it like that. Would he have turned out like, god forbid, Malfoy, had he lived in the wizarding world instead? A world that would have, no doubt, spoiled him to death? Could his abusive childhood truly be a blessing in disguise?

'In the end, all that is past, is past', Continued Celeste in a soft whisper, matching Harry's pensive mood. 'Do not let your past overshadow what you have now. Learn from the past, but live for the future, Harry. For the future is what you make of it, but the past is already set in stone. What good can you possibly hope to gain by sulking on _what-if_'s and _could-have_'s?'

Though not entirely sure about the _future is what you make of it_ part of the speech (after all, Harry was part of a prophecy), Harry realized that the rest of what Celeste said was dead on. He had two extremely loyal friends, a family that loved him as their own, and countless people he can count on in times of need. Being grumpy over his past certainly would not help his relations with them.

'Hmm… You're right', admitted Harry praising. But he couldn't help but add: 'Are you like an oracle of some kind?'

'Oracles tell prophecies, silly!' Celeste said childishly, giving Harry a glancing slap on the head. Taking on an air of mock dignity, she continued: 'I'm just wise beyond my years.'

They continued their good-natured chat and, in Celeste's case, exploration through the neighborhood until they arrived at one of the martial art studios Harry had looked up earlier. After getting a small tutorial on the different courses available, Harry had signed up for a full training package without hesitation. He needed the agility and combativity, it would probably be his only advantage over the muggle despising death eaters. To his surprise, Celeste also decided to join his course, mumbling something about the incident in the alley. Harry wasn't about to complain, of course.

……………………….

The next day…

After an uneventful trip to his ancestral vault for some much needed gold, Harry was tiptoeing down Knokturn Alley once again. To his great surprise, he did not have to go far to find the shop he was looking for. He gingerly entered the shop only to be greeted by an even bigger surprise: Cho Chang was standing behind the counter, looking directly into his eyes.

For a brief moment, Harry was stunned. _Why was she here? Has she recognized me? Should I make a run for it?_ Harry shook his head to clear away all the confusing questions. Trusting on the magic of his gray cloak to forever hide his face in the shadows of the hood, Harry slowly walked up to his former love, faltering slightly when her angelic expression changed from innocent apprehension to frowning wariness. _She doesn't know it's me_, concluded Harry. _And I am not supposed to know her either_, Harry reminded himself before opening his mouth.

'Do you have any pre-made polyjuice potions?' Asked Harry in his magically disguised voice, a simple and usually undetectable charm he picked up from his book on concealment.

'Hmm… Yes. We have some in stock, you will only need to put the _last ingredient_ in to use them', answered the Asian girl in a guarded tone. 'Though I should warn you that the use of polyjuice potions is currently heavily frowned upon by the ministry, and will soon be outlawed due to, you know, the return of You-Know-Who.'

'Bah.' Replied Harry with a dismissive wave of his hand, trying to imitate the tough and bad guys he once saw in a movie. 'How much?'

'It would be twenty-five galleons per vial.' Answered Cho, still wary. 'We have about twenty vials left. Each vial should last you around eight hours, if you drink carefully.'

'I will take ten,' Said Harry nonchalantly. Cho immediately started to pack the vials, still taking care of never turning her back to him. Having nothing better to do while waiting for Cho to finish, Harry took a closer look at his old flame. Just as he had suspected, she had been crying again, for god knew what reason. Harry sighed.

'What is a girl like you doing in a place like this? You don't look like you belong.' Harry couldn't help but asking. And as an afterthought, he added: 'If you don't mind me asking.'

For a while, it looked as if Cho would very much mind. After all, it was hard to trust a man whose face was constantly hidden within the shadows of his hood. But Cho finally decided that it probably didn't matter either way, and, with a shrug, she said: 'my parents run this apothecary store. I help out during the summer so they can concentrate on brewing really hard and lengthy potions.'

'Ah. So are your parents… pureblooded?' Harry decided to push on. After all, he was a bit curious on where his ex-girlfriend and her parents stand on the coming war.

'Of course!' Answered Cho hastily, as if being anything but a pureblood could bring instant death, which, in that alley, probably could. 'Here are your potions. Thank you for coming. I think you should leave now.' Cho added to ward off any further questions.

'Err… aren't you forgetting something?' Harry asked in a slightly amused tone.

'What?' Replied Cho, an almost panicky tone in her voice, as if expecting to be cursed or robbed in the next instant. Harry was greatly puzzled by her jumpy reaction. _Wow. She must really have it tough, working in a place like this all summer, especially now that Voldie has returned…_

'Well, don't you want your money?' spoke Harry out loud, counting out 250 galleons.

'Oh, right. Thank you', said Cho, sincerely this time.

Harry was already nearly out the door, and simply waved his hand in salute, without turning back, before disappearing into the alley beyond.

Back in the store, after making sure she was alone once more, Cho sadly flipped open the locket she had been gazing at before the strange hooded man came in, pictures of a dead boy and herself smiling happily back up at her…

……………………….

Harry, having carefully packed the vials into his muggle backpack upon entering into muggle London, was in the process of transferring the content of one of the fancy glass vials into a much less attention grabbing muggle thermos. He then proceeded to a public washroom in order to put on the disguise he would need for the next phase of his training. Finally, with a slight tinge of guilt, Harry dropped a single hair into the polyjuice filled thermos.

Several minutes later, an old and somewhat hunched over lady walked out of the men's washroom, a backpack on her back. Fortunately, nobody was around to faint in shock.

……………………….

'Eh… are you sure you want to do this, madam?' Asked the still incredulous employee.

'Sure I'm sure, young man.' Replied Harry, slightly annoyed after having been asked the same question over and over.

'Alright… Err… For legal documentation purposes, I will have to err… ask you to prove that you're above age…' Explained the clerk awkwardly, having never dealt with anyone above the age of thirty in his short time working at '_The Adult Shooting Range_'. It had been so named to grab the attention of potential customers, though capturing the interest of a seventy-seven years old lady was certainly beyond all the hopes and dreams of the owners who initially came up with the name.

'Of course. Here's my ID, young lad.' Replied Harry, handing over the ID card he had duplicated from Helen.

'Ok, looks in order. Please fill out these waiver forms and we can go pick a gun for you.' Said the clerk a bit less uneasily, having fallen back to his normal 'new customer' routine.

After a short while, Harry found himself holding a silver 9mm pistol with the somewhat frail hands of his seventy-seven years old neighbor, shooting away at a mannequin. _That was way too easy_. Thought Harry. _Oh well, good for me then. I do need this practice. Death eaters probably don't even know what a gun is. I will definitively have an edge next time I run into them, even if I lose my wand in combat._

With that gruesome but realistic thought in mind, Harry redoubled his efforts.

……………………….

'Now, all I need is a gun that I can actually use outside of this place.' Mused Harry as he exited the shooting range. They had, of course, not allowed him to take any guns out of the shooting range with him, as gun possession was still banned in the UK. But all in all, Harry felt pretty good with himself for devising such a clear way to practice his shooting accuracy. He was, of course, extremely aware of the dangers and responsibilities that were associated with wielding a gun. But since he had pretty much wielded the power to kill people with spells from his wand for a couple of years now, Harry has no qualms about possessing a gun for self defense. But this time, should he somehow get his hands on a real gun (outside of the shooting range), he'd be breaking muggle laws.

Harry has almost become indifferent when it came to breaking wizarding laws, as he had done it countless times by now, and, after seeing first hand the people who established those laws in action last summer during his trial, Harry didn't think much of those laws anyways. But, having lived in the muggle world for the better part of his life, Harry found his respect for the muggle laws far less easy to discard. _But those laws probably weren't meant for magical people_, thought Harry. _Besides, this is for the greater good of the world. I need to survive to defeat Voldemort, after all. The end would justify the means… wouldn't it?_

Harry silently pondered on this last dilemma while sitting in a stall in a usually deserted public washroom (the men's), waiting for the effects of the polyjuice potion to expire. He did not wait long, as he had timed his potion intake with his schedule of the day.

Harry was still debating with himself (having somehow shifted his mental dispute from breaking muggle laws to whether the chicken or the egg came first) when he arrived at the gym where he would take his first martial art class. He quickly changed into the needed garments and strolled into the classroom, still lost in thought. A poke from the person next to him shook him out of his reverie. It was Celeste. With the crazy plan Harry had just pulled off, he almost forgot that she was in this class. He instantly snapped to attention, looking forward to the coming lesson with much more enthusiasm than he had a moment ago.

'Alright, class', started the instructor. 'Since most of you are new to martial arts, we'll simply begin by running you through a series of exercises designed to let me evaluate your skill level in terms of reflexes, precision of movements, muscles coordination, and the such. Don't worry, there is no failing grades here. Ok, let's begin!'

……………………….

It turned out that Celeste was almost as uncoordinated in her movements as Victor Krum was clumsy on the ground. She came dead last on all the tests related to muscles coordination. _It was as if she was not familiar with using her own body_, thought Harry of Celeste's abnormally slow and awkward movements on the more demanding routines the instructor had them perform. However, to his great puzzlement, Celeste always managed to score near the top when it came to the reflex based tests. _Oh well, guess some people are like that_, shrugged Harry as he finally reached his apartment building._ They excel at some stuff, and are really bad at some others._

Harry himself did pretty well in all the tests, though never excelling in any particular area. He and Celeste had spent a bit more time together after class, with Harry once again showing Celeste around the city. Harry couldn't, for the life of him, figure out Celeste. She seemed innocent and sweet most of the time, and yet could suddenly become wise and grave, almost as if having lived through several centuries of adversity.

'Ah! There you are, young man!' An old lady's voice abruptly cut through Harry's thoughts. It was his neighbor, standing in the elevator. She had obviously just prevented the doors from closing. 'Tell me, are you single?'

'Err…' For the briefest of instant, Harry froze, thinking the old lady was coming on to him. But he already felt guilty enough for having impersonated her earlier, and thus couldn't bring himself to lie to her right then and there. Even if, in this case, a simple lie could potentially save him from an unimaginable amount of trouble and awkwardness.

'Ah, wonderful!'

Harry inwardly cringed, dreading her next words, which Harry was sure were going to be some old fashioned form of pickup line.

'I have a great niece who's single as well!' Started Helen, not noticing Harry's great sigh of relief. 'I can set you guys up! A nice young man like yourself deserve to have someone special to share his life with, don't you think so?'

And before Harry could protest, the elevator doors closed.

'Wait! We live on the same floor!' Cried Harry in vain, after realizing that very fact.

Thinking he could always stop her matchmaking later, Harry started the long and arduous climb toward his on apartment, not really looking forward to the reading and training in the defensive magic he had planned for himself later that night.

……………………….

Three weeks later…

The clay warrior swung his left arm in an exaggerated arc, spraying Harry with razor sharp clay fragments that came loose from its own fast moving arm. Not expecting such a tactic, Harry yelled out in pain as the clay chunks bit into his legs, drawing blood. With a ferocious yell of anger, Harry sent one of the new hexes he learned over the last weeks toward his assailant, hitting it dead on, tearing bits of clay from the animated combatant with explosive force. However, the clay warrior simply shrugged off the spell that would have, at the very least, sent its recipient into an uncontrollable series of spasms. But the momentary distraction was enough for Harry. He rushed up to the automaton and, with a satisfying crunch, crashed the one foot high figure beneath his left shoe. When he lifted his foot, the pint-sized warrior had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of dirt.

A similar pile laid spread near Harry, the same shoe imprint leaving no doubt as to how it had met its ultimate fate.

_Note to self: in real life, I can't use stepping on my enemies as a strategy to incapacitate them_. Thought Harry. _Also note, animated objects can devise strategies based on their own forms that I can never think of, since I'm not made of clay and all…_

This last finding intrigued Harry. Over the past three weeks, he had become fairly good at animating statues and the likes, with the intention of using them in a fight much in the same way Dumbledore did at the ministry. And this was the first time one of his animated automatons displayed any sign of adaptive self-thinking.

Of course, in the beginning, things had looked pretty grim for Harry: he couldn't even transfigure anything into a proper man shaped statue, with most of his attempts having extremely thin legs that can't even support its own weight, or a giant head that tend to tumble down the body at the slightest movement, and other equally pleasant disfigurations.

It had been Celeste who had helped him out, even though she wasn't even aware that she did. In fact, throughout the last three weeks, Celeste had not so much as whispered a single word related to the wizarding world, or magic, limiting herself to bombarding Harry with questions about the muggle world and dragging Harry all over London's tourist and youth attractions, places that seemed to still hold her intrigue as she had, thanks to Harry's helpful (and eager!) tutorials, gotten accustomed to the ordinary muggle world.

Harry found himself rather enjoying the whole arrangement he had with Celeste. They would usually meet up during their martial art class, and then head off to explore whatever caught Celeste's fancy on that particular day. Harry himself wanted to live a little and experience some of the muggle attractions he had always heard about, and doing so with an extremely pretty girl at your side was all the better. After all, Harry did not want his life to be about nothing but training and learning, a pattern that Harry believed would eventually leave him as a soulless and uncaring hermit that wouldn't know how to enjoy himself. Much like a living weapon, Harry had thought. He did not doubt for a single instant that such a life was exactly what Dumbledore had in store for him.

It was during one of those 'tourist' outings he had with Celeste that Harry heard something that helped him make tremendous leaps of progress in his training. They were, for some reason known only to Celeste, visiting a science center focused on biology, and the guide simply commented on how, as a child grows up, his or her imagination tend to become less and less fertile, for the child had learned and come to accept, through his or her own experiences, what can and cannot be accomplished within the limitations of the world.

Thinking about it, Harry couldn't help but agree. He then had started thinking about what kind of limitations the wizarding world had, as those limitations would obviously be different from the limitations the muggles had come up with. Doing a bit of memory digging off the top of his head, Harry had quickly come up with a few limitations, but just as quickly, he had remembered some anecdote that had broken each of the limitations. That's when it had hit him: Could it be that there were no limitations of what one can accomplish in the magical world?

Harry then had started to suspect that he might have learned too much about the supposed limitations of the magical world from the people around him. Had he not been able to accomplish much more when he was unaware of the wizarding world? _No, not really_, had been his first response. But he was able to grow his hair back, magically making a whole sheet of glass disappear and reappear, and even apparate without splinching himself back then. Sure, he could probably do all that now as well, with a bit of research and some judicious spells, but it was a far cry from merely 'using' his thoughts to perform those tasks.

It was from then on that Harry had decided to free his mind from whatever limitations he could think of, including the low expectations he had of his own magical powers, during his training. Though it had been very hard for Harry to disregard all thoughts on how impossible a task could be, he had still experienced vast improvements in his learning. His statues eventually had perfect proportions, and the animation spells he was trying to learn came to him much easier than before. _If I don't know that I can't do it, then I can do it_, was the paradoxical sentence he had often repeated to himself in his head.

Thus, Harry was eventually able to fully animate a clay statue, though a very small one. Initially, he had to focus all his attention on it, ordering it to act out every single movement. Eventually, Harry was able to confer his commands to the statue during its creation, allowing it to act semi-autonomously. Later on, Harry simply had to let the figurine know of Harry's intent, allowing the clay-man to act on its own, though always according to the purpose for which it had been created.

Of course, that's when Harry had the genius idea of creating multiple figurines to further imitate Dumbledore. He had also tried animating bigger statues, with very limited success.

Deciding to make use of whatever he had on hand, Harry employed his own animated figurines against himself during offensive and defensive spell training. Granted, they couldn't even cast a simple spell at him, but still made very tough moving targets that he practiced his wand aim on, due in no small part to their tiny size.

Though learning far better than he had before his epiphany, Harry was no Hermione. That fact, coupled with his far greater devotion toward correctly animating his clay warriors than toward anything else, explained quite logically his less than stellar advances in spell training over the weeks, and his entirely absent training in apparating or portkey making. To top it all off, most of the new spells Harry had learned were advanced versions of a spells he already knew, such as improved shield charm and stunner, and other such trivial charms and hexes. Harry knew full well that the array of spells at his command would pale in comparison to what Moody or Remus could perform. A simple flashback to the lightning paced duels he had witnessed in that dreaded veil room, back in the department of mysteries, left Harry with no illusions to his own capabilities. In fact, the only spell type that Harry had mastered fairly well was healing magic.

On the other hand, Harry had progressed so much in his self-imposed muggle defense trainings that he was confident that, should the need arise, he could single handedly deal with three or four death eaters and, at the very least, escape unscathed. He had even gone to the 'trouble' of 'buying', with some help from Celeste, a pair of guns from shady London underground 'dealers'…

……Flashback……

Harry was escorting Celeste back to her neighborhood on a breezy London summer night. They were feeling slightly uneasy, as it was way past the unspoken time when normal people returned to their homes, when the neighborhood police tried to make themselves scarce, and when gangs of thugs of this part of London owned the streets Harry and Celeste were walking on.

'Maybe we should have just gotten a hotel room near the Big Ben', mused Harry, totally oblivious to how dirty his comment might have sounded. 'I don't like the look of this.'

'A hotel? They are kind of like inns, right?' Replied Celeste, sounding pensive. 'Oh, I forgot to thank you. You've been very generous in taking the time to go with me to that clock tower today.'

_Well, it's not like I could have said no_, thought Harry silently. _Wait. Why couldn't I have? It's not like I'm her boyfriend or anything. I have no obligations to go with her anywhere! Why am I spending so much time going around with her when I could have been learning about possibly life saving spells? Why do I …_

Harry was still mentally rambling on this matter when it happened. Two thugs stepped out of the shadows, one on either end of the small underpass that Harry and Celeste were walking through. The whole affair had been disturbingly quiet and efficient. This was obviously not the first time these two thugs had pulled such a move.

'Give us all your valuables, and we'll let you go unharmed… Well, except maybe for the girl.' Said the thug in front of them, muttering the last part, a sickeningly perverted look in his eyes.

Harry went for his wand.

'Wow, wow, wow. Not so fast!' Cautioned the thug in front, pulling out a somewhat fancy pistol, its silver gleam dulled by the fading streetlight. Behind them, the other thief pulled out a matching gun. 'Now just slowly take out whatever money and jewelry you have, and throw them over here.'

'Celeste', murmured Harry slowly, a plan coming to his mind. 'Just slowly pull out your wand, make it look like you're searching for your wallet, and stun the one behind us, ok? I'll take care of the one in front. It'd be just a wooden stick to them, I doubt they will realize what's going on before it's too late.'

Celeste nodded.

Harry proceeded to slowly pull his wand from his pocket, taking it out with his wallet in tow, as if the wooden stick was just something extra hindering his wallet retrieval. Glancing slightly at Celeste to check on her readiness, Harry nodded ever so imperceptibly at her to signal their move.

Harry stunned the thug in front of his without a problem, his aim dead on. He quickly whipped his wand arm around to help Celeste, in case she missed.

'Stupefy!' Celeste cried out at the same time a _bang_ was heard. The thief went down, stunned.

'Are you alright, Harry?' Celeste inquired, eyes a bit narrower than usual.

Harry checked himself over, not finding anything amiss. Glancing at Celeste, Harry was horrified to see a bullet-sized hole on her snow-white pants. He quickly knelt down to check her over.

Apparently, the bullet had missed her left leg by less than an inch.

The seriousness of his earlier predicament hit Harry like a speedy train. What did he just do? He could have been killed! Worse, he could have gotten Celeste killed! And over what? A few pieces of paper that he could have easily replaced? Why had he, Harry, taken the threat of two murderous thieves with guns pointing straight at him and Celeste so lightly? Was it his hero persona acting up again? Or was it because he didn't want to lose face in front of Celeste's eyes by submitting to the thugs' demands? Or might it even be because he was getting so used to wielding a gun himself, with all his practices at the shooting range, that he became oblivious to their deadly capabilities? _Yes, that must be it_, Harry decided. _Once again, I've placed someone in danger because of my recklessness. Am I truly destined to cause harm to whoever is close to me?_

Had Harry been less distracted by his own tumulus thoughts, he would have noticed that Celeste was not even holding a wand. And had he been as alert as he had during his more dangerous escapades, he might have noticed how very delayed (compared to his own) Celeste's spell had been cast.

As it was, Harry noticed none of that.

'I… I'm sorry, Celeste. I should never have asked you to do anything so dangerous. I almost got you killed…' Harry started to babble, guilt overwhelming him. 'I…'

Celeste cut him off by hugging him close, enfolding him in her calming but warm embrace.

She could feel Harry's whole body tremble in her grasp, and she knew he was on the verge of crying. She knew, from what little she learned about Harry over the past few days, that he was about to cry not because he was scared for his own life, but because of his failure to satisfy his excessive need to protect the people around him. She could do nothing but hug him close at that moment, for she did not yet know how to act in these situations that were so new to her, and embracing him seemed like the right thing, the only thing, to do.

After awhile, Harry's tremors seemed to lessen. Celeste felt it might be safe to put in a few words at that moment without destabilizing Harry's emotions.

'Don't worry Harry. You did the right thing. If we can't even deal with these common thugs, how could we possibly hope to deal with dark wizards?' Provided Celeste comfortingly, unknowingly echoing Harry's own thoughts about their very first meeting, weeks ago.

Harry nodded silently and pulled back, a grim determination on his face. He walked up to the two unconscious thieves, picking up their guns.

'I will keep these. That way, each time I use them, I can be reminded of tonight, and of how dangerous a gun can be.' Explained Harry, though Celeste got the impression that he was mostly talking to himself.

Harry even found a flash grenade while searching the thugs for spare ammo clips, which he also found a few.

They hurriedly left the two unconscious thieves behind them, Harry clinging tightly to Celeste's arm, reassuring himself that she was still there, unhurt and well.

……End Flashback……

The next day, Celeste had returned to her usual innocent and wide-eyed self, and Harry, not wishing to bring unpleasant memories into his conversations with her, simply never mentioned the incident again.

_Well, it doesn't mean I've forgotten about it_, thought Harry somberly, preparing to leave his apartment after his daily animation and spell aiming practice.

Having finally finished cleaning up the mess he made with all his flattened clay warriors, Harry cautiously strapped on his so dangerously acquired twin silver guns, and packed all the necessary equipment (old lady clothes, ID, polyjuice potion, etc.) for his bi-weekly shooting training. Checking one last time and finding nothing missing, Harry walked out of his apartment…

……………………….

… And came face to face with his two best friends. Harry was shocked beyond action. Ron and Hermione, not recognizing him due to his muggle disguise, turned their heads back toward Helen's door. Harry kept staring at them, his brain slowly registering the fact that they were not here because of him. By the time Harry recovered enough to realize what that fact meant, Hermione and Ron had already turned their attention back to him.

Thinking quickly, Harry decided to go for the 'I'm so annoying that you don't want to bother remembering me' approach. He made some exaggerated motions of checking Hermione up and down (and noticed a few things while doing it), and quickly made some snide remarks that was sure to annoy the hell out of both of his friends. Sure enough, Ron turned red and started threatening Harry with bodily harm.

Harry wisely fled from the scene, knowing that getting into a fight with his best friend was probably not the smartest thing a man in hiding could do.

……………………….

Two hours later…

Harry, still in his old lady disguise, was just about to pull the glass front door of 'The Adult Shooting Range' open when two familiar blurs ran past the store, chased by five familiarly dressed men, obviously dark wizards. Not even pausing to think of about the consequences of possibly being recognized by Ron and Hermione, Harry followed, as fast as he could while being trapped in the body of a seventy-seven years old woman.

He lost sight of Ron and Hermione for a brief moment, but then quickly spotted one of the dark wizards taking the long way around a building. _Probably trying to block Ron and Hermione from escaping_ _this way_, thought Harry. He went after the man, trying to be as inconspicuous as he possibly could be.

He soon lost sight of the dark wizard, as everyone was moving way to fast for his old-lady body to keep up. However, since there is only one way where the wizard could have gone, Harry simply moved in that direction. Soon, he came upon the scene of his two best friends being cornered by the five dark wizards that were pursuing them. Amazingly, Hermione got off a spell that seemed to have vaporized four of them. Listening to the conversation that followed, Harry was reassured that Hermione had not turned into a murderous maniac during the past few weeks. _Maybe they won't need my help after all_, thought Harry, a bit sad to not being forced by deadly circumstances to interact with his friends.

Fortunately, another dark wizard, hidden until now by an invisibility cloak, plucked Ron and Hermione's wands right out of their hands, thus leaving Harry with no choice but to help his friends, _and possibly even talk to them afterwards_, thought Harry excitedly. Having already put two and two together on Hermione's relation to Helen, the old lady he was pretending to be, Harry reluctantly pulled out the twin pistols he had obtained. He could not use his wand since Helen, also Hermione's great aunt, was a muggle, and it wouldn't be too logical for her to be seen by her great niece using magic. Taking a lazy aim with the pistol in his right hand, Harry fired a warning shot toward the death eaters.

'Leave them alone! If you want to hurt them, you'll have to go through me first!' Yelled Harry as he charged toward the two stunned dark wizards. They did not stay stunned for long. Curses and hexes started flying toward him at a tremendous rate. Fortunately for Harry, the death eaters weren't, for the moment, cursing to hit, but simply fired spells in rapid succession in order to distract him as they assessed their new predicament. Harry fired his own two guns in retaliation, also to distract the enemy, hopefully delaying them from correctly assessing that their new threat consisted of only one extremely old muggle lady. _Ron and Hermione are flattened against the ground, so they should be relatively safe. _Thought Harry observantly._ I don't have any cover to hid behind and neither do the death eaters. Any lucky shot can finish me off… Must gain upper hand and quick!_

Harry decided to use the flash grenade he had obtained along with his guns. The effect was immediate. Even through his closed eyelids, Harry saw the flash of light that was sure to have blinded anyone looking in his direction.

Opening his eyes, Harry saw the flash caught both of the death eaters. He quickly took careful aim, not wishing to kill anyone, and fired toward one of the death eaters' less fatal, but no less immobilizing body parts. The shots were dead on, and the injured death eater immediately collapsed to the ground, seemingly fainting from the pain. In his excitement at his success and also guilt at having hurt someone very gravely, Harry momentarily paused his attack, and was rewarded with a disarming spell right to the chest that sent him, in his seventy-seven years old female body, flying backwards, his guns stripped from him by an invisible force.

He landed, fortunately, in a pile of garbage, which cushioned his fall. Getting quickly back to his feet. Harry saw that the remaining death eater was still half-blind, and must have got in a lucky shot. Deciding to risk it (and not really seeing any other option), Harry rushed toward the death eater. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that his body was still that of a very frail old lady, and too late did he realize that he would not be able to get to the dark wizard before said wizard can get a curse off at him.

Fortunately, his twin silver guns, disarmed from him by the 'expelliarmus' spell, smashed right into the death eater's face as the man was cursing Harry, thus causing his spell to be completely off the mark. Harry closed the remaining distance between them and promptly put his recently learned martial art moves to use. This time, he did not forget that he was still in an old lady's body, and limited himself to the easier, slower moves that, nevertheless, disabled the death eater with bone-breaking efficiency. Harry was about to move in to knock the man out when the dark wizard portkeyed away.

_Well, that wasn't so hard_, thought Harry. _And I am in this really old body too. I would definitely be able to handle a few encounters with death eaters from now on._

Glancing at his friends, Harry was slightly amused to see the incredulous look Ron was giving him. He also couldn't help but notice the subtle gestures of closeness that Ron and Hermione were displaying. The gestured were nothing explicit, and were mostly small actions that two people who cared for each other performed without thinking. Harry was slightly confused by this latest development between his two best friends. Did they get together while he was away? Should he be feeling jealous?

Harry was still absently turning those thoughts in his head as Hermione and Ron slowly made their way toward him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a mass of something smoking popped in right above Ron. Harry was somewhat surprised at the speed with which Ron was able to gently push Hermione out of the falling smoking hunk. He was even more surprised to see that the smoking pile of robes was, in fact, his hated potions teacher.

Harry was slowly backing away from Hermione and Ron (who was flattened against the ground) both of whom were still gazing on in shock at the unconscious Snape. Harry figured that things would be getting extremely complicated should he get discovered now, what with a smoking Snape and a Hermione that thought he was her great aunt and all. He almost made it to the exit of the dead-end they were in when a sudden change in lighting caused all three of them to reflexively look up.

Once again, Harry was shocked! The sky, previously covered by gray clouds that threatened to deluge any caught below them, was now clear of all obstruction, with the Sun shining brightly once more.

_This is getting way too weird!_ Harry thought as he hurriedly fled away from his friends._ I really can't let myself be caught right now. I have powers to discover and a dark wizard to slay. Can't go get myself mixed up in whatever this new mess is. Bet the old man would blame me for all this or lock me up again for my safety. Ha! Safety!_

Turning around the corner and putting some welcoming distance between himself and, Ron and Hermione, Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the closeness that his two best friends seemed to have acquired, all thoughts of his bitterness toward Dumbledore forgotten.

The apparent closeness of his two best friends got him thinking about something far more important (or at least, far more pleasant): girls! If he had been thinking logically, he would have admitted that he could not, in all good conscience, afford to get close to a girl right now, for fear of the girl's safety. Alas, fresh from another near death encounter with the minions of the Dark Lord that he was fated to face, Harry couldn't help but feel unloved and depressed, and in need of companionship. After all, he was most likely not going to survive the prophesized encounter, and here he was, all alone...

_And I haven't even experienced true love yet!_ Lamented Harry, unconsciously echoing some B-rated soap opera he saw last night. _Oh well… guess nice girls are hard to find these days… Perhaps I should start looking… Maybe even ask Celeste out… It's not as if a suitable girlfriend for me will just suddenly fall down from the sk…_

And with that, the broken and bloodied body of a familiar midnight haired girl crashed loudly into the garbage bin Harry was walking past, bombing out a small crater on the concrete sidewalk, obviously having fallen from very high up in the sky.

…………………….

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	7. Wish

**AN**: Thanks to FSL, ChibiKari, FreedomKira, ccrzykat, Shadow101, PassingGirl, and gaul1 who reviewed my last chapter! You're the reason I keep going!

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all characters from the Harry Potter books are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. These stories are for pure non-profit personal enjoyment. Only the story plots and original characters are mine.

* * *

Chapter Seven

Wish

'Celeste!' Harry cried in shock. Reflexively, he looked up at where Celeste came from: the sky… Just in time to see the familiar green light of a killing curse streaking down toward Celeste, its speed unaffected by the gravity which had accelerated Celeste's body to go faster than the curse.

Without even thinking about the consequences, or better yet, alternatives, Harry threw his body on top of Celeste's, hoping to shield her from the curse. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was relieved to notice that she was still breathing. Too late did he realize that he could have conjured one of his clay warriors to do the same job…

Fortunately, the curse struck a few feet off target, melting an unfortunate street lamp into a pile of unrecognizable metal goo. Harry guessed that the wind must have saved he or Celeste from a very untimely death, since her body must have been blown a bit off course by the wind, while the killing curse would have traveled in a straight line, thus causing this near miss.

Carefully examining the sky for any other spells or even a dark wizard, and finding only a broom plunging toward him at a feather floating like pace, Harry quickly brought his eyes back on Celeste, not even diverting his gaze for an instant when the familiar clatter of wood stick on cement was heard near him. Now that he had time to examine her more carefully, Harry couldn't help but wince. Her whole body was covered with bruises and splintered flesh that were bleeding profusely. Furthermore, even to Harry's barely trained healer-eyes, the once pretty girl seemed to have sustained a huge quantity of spell damage as well. Harry knew from what he learned about healing magic that, contrary to normal injuries, most of the spell injuries were confined within the body, and not apparent on the outside unless the damage was extremely grave. Judging by Celeste's outward appearance, Harry shuttered to think about the severity of her internal injuries. Shaking his head, Harry quickly got to work, putting however little of the healing magic he knew to work, trying not to think about the fact that the bloodied mess before him was the girl that he had spent so many of his 'liberated' days with, the girl that he was, in fact, thinking of asking out just a moment earlier…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

'Ah yes, this is indeed **IT**', declared Voldemort to no one in particular, a bowing Lucius before him. 'Even from the outside, I can feel a strong magic residue… And you say the thief had been dealt with?'

'Yes my lord', replied Lucius in a humble tone, averting his master's gaze. 'I knocked the man off of his broom and sent a killing curse after him just to be sure.'

'Ah, good, good. I doubt your curse would have hit, but I suppose the fall would have killed him. Well, let us put this thing to good use.' Concluded the dark lord, with an almost eager tone. Without further fanfare, Voldemort uncorked the ancient, dark, and glassy bottle he was holding.

Nothing happened…

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry was almost in tears. He did everything he could possibly do, but it was in vain. And he knew it. There was not even enough time to get Celeste to a trained mediwizard. Her injuries were too great. The amount of dark and hostile magic she had been forced to absorb, compounded with the physical fatalness of her fall, left her with little time in this world.

'I'm sorry Celeste, I'm so sorry…' Harry murmured as he silently cried into Celeste's chest, hugging her close, as if trying to prevent her parting from this world by clinging her tightly to him. Harry was heartbroken over the eminent loss of another friend, disgusted with himself for his inability to do anything, and frustrated with the world in general to be so unfair.

Suddenly, whether it was by the motion his shaky sobs had induced into the tightly held body of Celeste or by Celeste's continued fading from the living, her hand unclenched, releasing the small beer-sized bottle she was holding. She had used her thumb as a cap, and with the unclenching of her hand…

'Hoyhoy! How may I serve you today?' Said a voice behind Harry (who was still holding Celeste), in a slightly conceited tone.

Harry, being in the state of distress he was, ignored the voice completely.

'Hello! Harry Potter. I asked you a question!' Came the voice, now impatient. This did catch Harry's attention.

'Huh? How did you know my name? Actually, how did you even know it's me?' Replied Harry before turning around, remembering that he still looked like an old lady, thanks to the polyjuice potion. When he did, he was shocked into momentary stillness.

There, before him, floated a being of countless magical tales: a genie! There was no mistake about it. With his Arabic clothing style, and his misty lower body that ended into the beer bottle, this could be nothing else but a genie Harry had heard so much about as a child.

'I know everything.' Said the genie smartly, in answer to Harry's questions. 'And I can see through all magical disguises. I'm a genie after all… And also, your polyjuice potion is wearing off… Now, Harry Potter, since you have summoned me, tell me your wish, and it shall be granted. You can wish for anything.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Hmm… Empty…' Voldemort said, in a frighteningly calm tone. Lucius held his breath, for he knew this must be the famed calm before the storm.

'I… I didn't know, my lord! Forgive me! I mean, there was no way I could have made sure he was still in there.' Lucius stuttered, trying to delay the storm as much as possible.

'Hmm… You are correct.' Voldemort said, to the surprise of everyone. 'Had you opened the bottle, the genie would have granted you a wish, and we'd have to wait another hundred years for him to grant another one… Oh well, crucio!'

Lucius crumbled to the floor.

'I'm not punishing you for not knowing the genie wasn't in the bottle anymore, for you could not have known.' Voldemort said calmly as his right hand man contorted in pain. 'I'm punishing you for letting the bottle get stolen in the first place. I even gave you a chance to get it back, but alas, the thief seemed to have out-smarted you. Thus you've failed me in that respect.'

Voldemort released his hold on Lucius. The elder Malfoy couldn't help but agree that he did indeed failed his master in exactly how the dark lord had said, and begrudgingly thought that he had undeniably deserved the punishment. In fact, now that he could think clearly once more, he had the distinct impression that the dark lord had held back slightly, having spared him from the full power of the dark lord's Cruciatus curse. Even the length of the punishment had be relatively short for a failing of this magnitude. Lucius had seen his fellow death eaters tortured more for less. Lucius wondered why.

'Perhaps you wonder why your punishment wasn't more painful.' Said the Voldemort, as if reading Lucius' thoughts. 'It's simple. I'm giving you the chance to correct your failing. The genie's wish granting was not all that useful to me anyway, as my powers far surpass his. I needed him for the wealth of information that is in his possession, for he has lived through countless ages of this world, and has cumulated much knowledge. Since he is now lost to me, I need you to get me a replacement. It would not be nearly as knowledgeable as the genie, but I believe it would still have the specific information I'm looking for.'

'I'd gladly do whatever you command, my lord.' Lucius said graciously. He was surprised that the dark lord wasn't torturing him needlessly anymore. Before, his master would simply thrust pain upon him until he passed out, but now, not only had the dark lord spared him the humiliation of passing out like a beggar on the floor, Voldemort was even giving him the chance to make up for his mistake. Lucius was determined to not fail the dark lord this time.

'I need you to get me the sorting hat of Hogwarts.' And, knowing that soldiers who know what they are fighting for fare far better than those who don't, Voldemort decided to add: 'The sorting hat was made by that muggle-loving Gryffindor. He had put part of his disgusting mind into it. It has also been privy to every single conversation that occurred in the headmaster's office since the start of Hogwarts. How much information do you think it would know?'

'A lot, my lord', Lucius said, grateful to know why he's stealing a ragged old hat, and all the more determined because of it.

'Very well, go then.' Said the dark lord dismissively. 'Oh, and Lucius… should you fail this time, I will not be as forgiving.'

Lucius simply bowed and left, his respect for the dark lord far stronger than when he had entered the meeting.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Err…' Harry was momentarily stunned. His mind was drawing a blank. He never actually thought that he would be given the chance to have anything he desired. How can one decide when one was suddenly offered to choose from such a large set of options? Suddenly, the fading warmness of the hand he was still holding reminded him of Celeste's predicament. Should he do it? Should he wish for Celeste's return to health? Or the return to life of his godfather and his parents? Or should he, as the savior of the Prophecy, wish for the death of the dark lord? _Oh well, it's not like I need to choose_, Harry thought. _I can just ask for all three._

'So I get three wishes, right?' Asked Harry, just to be sure.

'What? Of course not! Only one!'

'But I thought you always grant three wishes?'

'Oh, no. That's my cousin, Genie, you know, the lamp genie. My name is Genie, and I'm only a bottle genie. Us bottle genies can only grant one wish.'

'Huh?' Harry was lost after the second 'genie sounding word'…

'Well, anyway, you have only one wish. So what will it be?' The genie said with a sweeping gesture.

_Could this genie be the power foretold by the Prophecy?_ _What if this is my only shot at defeating Voldemort?_ Harry thought with panic. Should he, Harry, forsake happiness for the sake of the world? Is he such a selfish man that he'd put his own happiness over the safety of countless others? But would he be so cruel as to let Celeste die right in front of his eyes in order to save people he didn't even know? Harry couldn't decide.

'Time's ticking you know.' Said the genie impatiently. 'Even though I don't really like this smelly new home that girl forced me into, which, by the way, we'll have a nice little chat about, I still would like to get this business over with… now.'

'Ok. Ok. I wish for the death of Voldemort!' Harry almost shouted. There, he'd done it. He had sacrificed the life of a girl he liked for the sake of the world_. What else can I do? What is the life of a single person compared to the safety of the entire world?_ Harry thought sadly. _I don't know how I will ever live with this choice. Perhaps I should join her…_

'Sorry, no can do.' Said the genie, interrupting Harry's grim thoughts. 'His death is beyond my power to control. Perhaps you should make another wish.'

'What! So you can only grant wishes within your power? Why didn't you tell me earlier?'

'Well… Anyway, you have another wish perhaps?'

'Ok. Should I correctly assume that you can't bring back the dead either?' Harry said, trying to clear his conscience before wishing for what he truly wanted.

'Shhhhuut! Not so loud. People might hear!' Whispered the genie. Then, leaning in close, he conspiratorially murmured. 'Yeah, you assumed correctly. But keep it to yourself. I have a job to keep.'

'Err… Ok. Can you please heal all of Celeste's wounds then? You can do that at least, right?' Harry said, not really caring about the genie's weird behavior.

'Hah, cure a simple human on the verge of death, no problem! Let me just use my expert eyes to see what malaises are ailing her…' The genie turned his gaze toward the dying girl, and examined Celeste very carefully. Suddenly, his eyes went wide with shock. 'By the power of the planes! She's a…' The genie suddenly stopped himself, as if remembering something, and cast a suspicious glance Harry's way. '…mess. Yeah, she's a mess. I am' sorry, I cannot heal her enough to save her life. She has suffered extensive magical damage. Her life-force is fading…'

'What kind of genie are you! You can't do anything!' Harry yelled, very exasperated. 'Didn't you just say curing a human was no problem?'

'Woah! Little man, calm down. There are things here far beyond your knowledge. I can't heal her, that is true. But I know someone who can. And I can bring you to him, if you wish.'

'But what good is it going to be! Celeste will be dead any moment now!' Harry fretted, extremely desperate.

'No worries, young master! I can also heal most of her superficial wounds, so that she can live a bit longer. In fact, she would be able talk and walk like a normal person for a brief period of time.'

'You can do all that but you can't heal her?' Asked Harry, incredulous.

'Correct. Though I can heal all the physical damage, I cannot replenish her life-force that all the harmful magic had drained from her. Her… err… body doesn't work that way.' Replied the genie, in a fairly scholarly tone.

'Ok, do it.' Harry said, desperate to do anything to save Celeste. He had, of course, not the slightest idea what all this life-force talk was about.

'Okie! This may take a while. May I suggest that you change into something more masc…'

'Harry?' Came a familiar female voice.

_Oh no!_ Harry mentally cursed himself. _I totally forgot that this is just around the corner from them! I can't deal with this right now! I need to save Celeste!_

'Harry, mate! It is you!' Came Ron's voice. 'Why are you dressed like that old l…'

'Harry James Potter!' Hermione cut Ron off. 'You have a lot of explan…'

The rest of her scolding died on her lips as she saw the ashen faced expression on her green-eyed friend's face. Her eyes traveled down Harry's hands, which were holding onto a much more feminine one, and came to rest on the unconscious girl who looked to be on the verge of death.

'Hermione, now's not the time', Harry murmured. 'Later, I promise, ok?'

'Of course Harry. Is she alright?' Hermione asked, truly concerned.

'Of course she is!' Came the cheerful voice of the genie. 'Well, as ok as she's gonna get for now. I'm all done! Shall we go?'

'You sure she won't die for now? She still looks very pale to me…' Harry said, gazing with concern down at Celeste's face. The genie appeared to have done a very decent job in curing her superficial wounds: besides her paleness, she looked almost like her normal self once more.

'She's just sleeping. Anyway, you want me to bring you to the person who can heal her or not? Oh, did I mention the place might be a bit dangerous?'

'No! You didn't!' Harry said, once again exasperated by the genie's antics. Had he been thinking a bit more clearly, he probably would have thought to ask who this person was.

'Well, I'm pretty sure I did.' Said the genie dismissively. 'Anyway, we should probably hurry up and go. It might take a while to get there and I don't know how long she's going to last.' With that, the genie summoned the somewhat mangled broom that had fallen from the sky earlier, and murmured something very similar to 'Portus' before presenting the broom to Harry: 'Here, make sure you and the young lady grab on to this!'

'You're using a portkey to get us there? This won't take long at all then.'

'Well, err… Did I mention that I can't get us all the way there? And that you have to travel through some hmm… obstacles on foot?' Replied the genie uneasily.

'What kind of obstacles?' Harry said, about to explode. The returning warmth of the hand he was holding had somewhat lessened his concerns for Celeste, leaving him free to focus on being angry at the genie's ineptitudes. _What kind of useless genie is this anyway? Can't he do a single thing correctly?_

'Well, you see… This person is pretty powerful, so to guard his err… house, he set up a whole set of _obstacles_ around it to prevent unwanted visitors from getting in. So we basically have to just go through them. That's all there is to it. I'm pretty sure we can finish it in two or three days tops! A day and a half, if we hurry. No sweat.'

'It'd take two days just to get through the traps set up around his house?' Harry asked, incredulous.

'Err… Well… Yeah? Normally, I could probably get us closer, but I've exhausted much of my energy saving that… young lady, you know. So I even had to resort to making a primitive portkey, which can't overcome as much of the grounds protection wards as my other method would have been able to.'

Ron and Hermione had both wisely chosen to remain out of the heated exchange so far. One trying to piece together as much information as she could from the conversation, and impart her deductions to the other, while said other friend tried to focus on Hermione's words whilst looking on in shock as his old lady clothes clad best mate talking to an exotically dressed floating mist-man.

'Harry!' Ron half-yelled, after more or less comprehending that Harry needed to go through some traps to save this girl he seemed attached to. 'Sounds like you might need some help! Let us go with you!'

'Ron, are you crazy?' Hermione retorted before Harry could answer. 'We can't just leave like this! Think about all the homework! …and our parents would be worried sick too!'

'She's right Ron.' Harry added. 'Besides, this might get dangerous, and I don't want you guys to risk getting hurt for something not even related to fighting Voldemort.'

'Peh! Nonsense, both of you!' Ron said in a superior tone. 'We can just leave a note for the Order and our parents with that old greasy git's unconscious body lying back there. I'm sure whoever's coming to investigate our distress signal would get it all sorted out. And I'd do anything to help my best mate save the girl he likes. It's part of being best mates and all that.' Ron finished with a nod, his arms folded over his chest.

Thinking about it a bit more and realizing that this could indeed become dangerous, Ron added, in a sincere tone: 'You don't have to come though, Hermione. This is more of a manly thing that me and Harry should do together.' He had (incredibly!) thought of inventing a plausible (or so he thought!) reason for Hermione to remain safe. He had guessed correctly that telling her not to come because it would be dangerous would only have made her want to go with them all the more.

'What? What manly thing? I'm not allowed to help Harry when it comes to girls? You're so sexist, Ron!' Hermione puffed, completely ignoring Harry's frantic but half-hearted denials about his supposed feelings toward Celeste. 'I'm coming too! Let me just leave some clever message for the Order so they don't know we ran into Harry.'

And with that, she hurried back into the dead-end where their potions master had fallen on them.

'You guys are crazy, you know.' Harry remarked to his best mate while waiting for their female companion to return. He did wish to have his best friends by his side to face whatever lay in wait for him. Celeste's life depended on him successfully meeting this mysterious man, after all. But he had to at least try to dissuade them. They'd gain nothing from this, and had everything to lose. Thus, Harry apathetically blabbed: 'There is no reason for you guys to do this! You don't even know her! You could get hurt for no reason!'

'Tell me Harry', Ron started, a rarely superior smirk on his face. 'You like this girl, right?'

'Err… Well, she is a good friend… And I was hoping to see if it could become something more. But it's nothing definite.'

'Well, that's good enough for me! I know you can't leave a good friend to die if you can do something about it. And neither can I! Even if I don't know this girl, you're my best friend, and I won't let you face danger alone, especially if it's to save someone's life! Best friends are about more than helping only when you're trying to save the world, you know. Best friends are about helping when you're in need!'

'What a speech!' The genie, which had remained surprisingly silent, clamored with sarcasm. 'Now let's all go before the portkey expires.'

Hermione, who had just ran back, hurriedly held on to the broomstick, Ron and Harry joined her a bit later.

'Err… Harry, shouldn't you make that girl there hold on to the broomstick too?' Hermione asked, ever observant.

'Yes, yes. And do pick up my bottle as well, would you? You don't want to be deprived of my helpful advices once you get there, do you?' Said the genie. Harry was pretty slow in picking up the bottle. Hermione thought he was almost hesitant.

'Where are we going anyway? And who is this person we're going to see?' Asked Ron offhandedly, expressing Hermione's concerns as well.

'You'll see.' Said the genie as the four youngsters and his own bottle winked out from the London… and the surface of the Earth.

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Am I being too wordy? Is the plot to your liking? What do you guys think of this genie character? Is Harry being too trusting to go like that?

**Please Review** and let me know! Takes only 2 minutes! Anonymous reviews are welcome too!


	8. Journey

AN: Thanks to FSL, Deeps, and PassingGirl who reviewed my last chap! The rest of you (if there are any... :'( Please REVIEW!

Chapter Eight

Journey

'I can't see anything!' Said a panicked Hermione. The trio and Celeste, and one genie in a bottle, seemed to have been transported in to a pitch-black room.

'Lumos!' Harry yelled, with feeling.

'Ahhh! My eyes! I'm blind! Get that light away from me!'

'Ron, stop shouting!'

'Hahahahaha, you guys are so funny.'

'Shut up, genie!' Ron retorted, his eyesight returning to him.

'So where are we?' Harry said, holding his wand out, carefully examining his surroundings. They seemed to be in a long tunnel of some sort, though he could not see the ends.

'We are twenty miles beneath the surface of the Earth, of course.' Said the genie in a matter of fact tone.

'Twenty miles? But I thought the Earth's entire crust is only twenty five miles deep!' Said Hermione in a slightly more panicked tone.

'Yeah, so?' Ron asked, puzzled by Hermione's fearful tone.

'Ron! This means that there's only five miles of earth between us and red hot magma that can melt through solid rock!'

'Oh, now that you mention it, it does feel kind of hot in here…' Ron trailed off, not really caring about Hermione's scientific explanations.

'Aren't you worried that we might get melted too?'

'Well, we're wizards, no? We can just cast some kind of shield charm and then apparate away, if need be. No big deal.'

'That's the spirit, boy!' Said the genie.

'You guys can apparate?' Asked Harry, slightly surprised.

'Yeah! Hermione and I were practicing all the time you were pretending to be dead! She read about all these stuff that help us escape the ministry's detection, we've been able to learn loads! So don't worry mate. When you go up against You-Know-Who, we can take care of ourselves!' Ron enthused to Harry.

'Speaking of which, Harry, how did you manage to escape ministry detection for underage magic?' Hermione asked, curious.

'I got a new wand. You?'

'Well, I read all about this tracking device they put on our wands before it was even sold to us, you know, and I found a way to remove it.' Hermione explained proudly.

'And… I err… actually don't know how to apparate…' Harry admitted, ashamed. Here he was, a man who had faked his own death to get in more training, and his best friends were able to easily outdo him, while not needing to fake their own deaths.

'So what have you been up to?' Asked Hermione, in her bookish curious tone, all fear of being melted gone from her mind.

'Har… Harry?' Came a trembling female voice.

'Celeste! You're awake? How do you feel?' Harry was beside her in an instant.

'Ergh… I feel so weak… What happened? Where are we? Last thing I remember, I was falling from the sky…' She looked frantically around at the unfamiliar surroundings, her eyes came to rest upon the genie. He nodded slightly at her. 'Harry, who are these people? …And how did you even find me?'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'…and so we apparently need to travel through this set of traps in order to get to this person who can heal you fully.' Finished Harry, glad to have completed his abbreviated recount of what happened.

'You mean, I might still die? But I feel fine right now, just a bit weak…' Celeste half-asked, her tone slightly depressive. This was the first time Harry ever saw her being so dejected. She was usually happy, sometimes pensive, and rarely angry, but never, ever, had she been sad…

'Yeah… you might. But don't worry. We'll go find this man for sure. And you'd be cured in no time!' Harry said in a faked cheerful tone.

'Huh… Ironic that of all my people, I, the youngest, would be the first to die in a long time…' Celeste continued, as if not hearing Harry. Then, suddenly remembering something, she turned to Ron and Hermione, who Harry had already introduced to her earlier. 'And you both came to help me as well? Just because Harry is?' They both nodded.

'You three must be very close then…' Celeste commented. 'Harry, you're very lucky to have such good friends…'

'Celeste, are you ok?' Harry asked, concerned. She was never this aloof. Perhaps the threat of her potential death was affecting her deeper than she let on. _Well, why wouldn't it? Who'd be still all happy and cheerful after learning they might die within a few days?_ Harry thought grimly.

'Yeah…' Then, putting on a bitter smile, she said: 'Well, guess at least I get to explore this interesting cavern before I die.'

Harry was too sad to say anything.

'Well, let's go then.' Ron offered after a brief period of pensive silence.

'Right! Let's go! No time to waste!' Harry stood up from his sitting position, poised to get on their newest adventurous trek.

'Err… Harry…' Hermione began. 'Maybe you should change out of my great aunt Helen's clothes before going?'

'Oh…' Harry's cheeks became red. 'Right, right…'

'How did you end up looking like her anyways?' Ron queried.

Thus started another brief account on Harry's part, about all the muggle trainings he had undertaken. As he put his normal, masculine muggle disguise back on, Ron and Hermione both recognized him as the flirtatious jerk they met in front of Hermione's great aunt's door.

'Sorry guys… I didn't want you to recognize me. Insulting you seemed like a good distraction at the time…' Harry offered apologetically to their queries in the matter. Ron good-naturedly slapped him on the back, congratulating him on having been so convincing.

Hermione frowned… Since when had Harry become so cunning in using people's emotions against them? Or had he always known what to do, but was simply too nice to do it? Hermione silently pondered these questions as the group set out on their quest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'So Celeste, how did you get all those injuries?' Asked an ever-curious Hermione as the quartet walked down the tunnel, directed by the genie's helpful guidance. Harry had the same question on his mind for a while too, he had just been too distracted to ask it by the girl who was leaning on him for support, and who consequently was pressed _very_ closely against him…

'Well, I was searching for the genie, and I found him and his bottle being carried onto this evil feeling island by a bunch of people. The island seemed well protected, because I got hit by these weird projectiles a few times on my way in.' Here, Celeste took a pause to draw in a much needed breath into her weakened body. 'Then, I sneaked up on these three men who were carrying the bottle, and stunned them before they know what hit them, since I could feel by then that they were bad people. (another breath) I took the bottle from them and quickly fled the island, but these five flyers on really fast brooms eventually caught up to me and started hitting me with a whole bunch of nasty curses I never heard of before. (breath) I tried evading them as best as I could, but it became pretty obvious that they'd eventually get me. So I transferred the genie into this beer bottle I brought along in the exact hopes that I could fool them into retaking the empty real bottle. (huge breath) But I never got the chance, since they knocked me off of my broom right after I finished the transfer. I haven't even capped the beer bottle at the time…'

'Oh…' Was all Hermione could manage. Harry and Ron didn't know what to think.

'Wait a second, Celeste. This island you mentioned… It was all evil and well protected? Was it… Azkaban?' Hermione asked after a while.

'I don't really know…' Celeste whispered.

'Yes, yes. Yes it was. I was there too, you know.' Offered the genie helpfully, eager to be included in the conversation.

The golden trio was in shock. Who was this girl? You don't simply fly into Azkaban without getting blown off of the sky unless you were extremely good at flying, and even then…

'Celeste', Harry started. 'That island is the headquarters of Voldemort!'

'Oh? I guess I missed my chance to confirm my people's suspicions then…'

Harry proceeded to explain to his two best friends about how Celeste was being sent by this isolated group of people to investigate Voldemort's alleged thievery of one of their powerful magical artifacts during the dark lord's years of spirit wandering.

'But wait a sec, how can he possibly touch anything, much less steal it, if he was just an immaterial spirit?' Asked Hermione.

'Magic works in mysterious ways…' Offered Celeste after a brief period of silence. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other and a silent message was passed. Celeste was obviously hiding something from them.

In a demonstration of their close friendship and how well they could almost read each other's thoughts, they were all able to wordlessly agree with Harry's pleading look, and not pursue the matter for now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Ah, here we are, the main entrance into the domain.' Declared the genie with a sweeping gesture.

Before them, the tunnel expanded into a gigantic cavern, its walls smoothed out by magic, and lined with torches. The floor was covered with a marble like substance, while the ceiling stretched high into the darkness, where the torchlight did not shine. The whole pitch black blanket of unseen highs gave the otherwise stylish hall quite the unnerving look.

In the middle of the cavernous hall stood two gigantic dragon statues, carved out of pure marble, with the main path passing in between them. Two well-ornamented doors stood at the far side, wide open, as if tempting the unwary visitor to rush into them.

'Be careful.' Cautioned the genie, his playful tone seemed to have faded. 'Even though this is only the entrance, there still might be a few minor traps here and there. Watch where you step.'

The group of friends nodded, carefully wading their way toward the other side. Ron courageously took the lead, while Harry, with a slightly weaker Celeste leaning on him, walked in the middle with Hermione, holding the genie's bottle, rounding out the rear. All three friends had their wands firmly gripped in their hands; each casting furtive glances above them, into the suspicious darkness over their heads.

Walking closer to the statues, Harry couldn't help but marvel at their realism and fine detail. He soon found out the reason why the statues were so life-like. Almost imperceptible at first, small cracking noises were heard. Thinking that there was an attack coming down from the darkness above them, everyone turned their attention toward the invisible ceiling of the cavern, wands at the ready. It wasn't until the first chunk of rocky marble crashed to the floor did the four friends turned their attention back onto the statues.

But of course, they were no longer statues: slowly breaking their way out of the rocky crust that had encased them were two of the fiercest dragons Harry had ever seen. Absentmindedly, Harry noticed that they were, ironically, from his most familiar variety: Hungarian horntails.

'Bloody hell…' Ron cursed in front of him.

'Holy C...', the genie added behind him, for emphasis.

The group ran as one back the way the came, toward the seemingly safer confines of the tunnel they just came from.

'I thought you said there'd be only minor traps at the entrance!' Yelled Harry angrily toward the genie as he ran.

Behind them, large chunks of rock were sent flying as the two dragons swiftly expanded their wings, spreading all with generous amounts of the marble crust that used to envelope them.

'No, don't go toward the tunnel! They'd just fry us with a single breath if we go in!' Yelled Hermione behind them. But it was too late. The two dragons were almost upon them, and they had no choice but to retreat within the confines of the crammed tunnel.

Hermione spun around to cast a quick Conjunctivitis curse at the leading dragon, hoping to blind it. The spell bounced harmlessly off of the dragon's eyes. Apparently, someone had the foresight of protecting the dragons against precisely this kind of magical attack.

'Run back! As much as you can!' Yelled a frantic Ron who lingered slightly at the tunnel's threshold to make sure Hermione made it in safely.

'Too late!' Hermione cried as she dove into the tunnel. Whirling around, she called out: 'Ignis Parietis!'

A translucent wall, akin to ice, suddenly shoot out from the ground before her, just in time to block the first incoming wave of red hot flame. Harry and friends could only watch on in helplessness as the deadly jets of heat licked at Hermione's smooth cold wall, vaporizing it bit by bit, along with some of the surrounding rock. The magical wall conjured by Hermione was obviously not made of ice, as it appeared to melt far less easily. Nevertheless, it was being slowly thinned out by the dragons' constant attacks.

'I can't hold this for long!' Hermione cried with strain, a beat of sweat running down her cheek. 'Hurry up and run out of their range!'

'What about you?' Ron asked, concerned.

'I will think of something! Go quickly!' Hermione urged.

'No way! We are not leaving you!' Harry and Ron said emphatically, in unison. Then, Harry, suddenly struck by another crazy inspiration, said: 'Ron, can you please help Celeste get back? I have an idea I need to try out.'

Ron, knowing this was not the time to argue, begrudgingly nodded. As he passed by Harry, Ron whispered to him: 'Take care of Hermione, please!'

'Of course.' Harry said with a slight nod, a tacit understanding passing between the two best friends.

Ron, the genie, and Celeste swiftly made their way down the tunnel.

'Hold on a bit longer Herm!' Harry urged, silently praying that his plan would work. Since he had never tried it before, he was obviously a little bit concerned.

Waving his wand through the fiery clash of magic and fire before him, Harry focused his attention at the debris of marble rocks laying splattered across the floor of the cavernous hall beyond.

Concentrating heavily, Harry let out a sigh of relief as the smaller pieces of rock assembled into two half-man-sized warriors. They shakily took their steps toward the dragons, which were still taking turns breathing fire into the tunnel, thus having their back turned toward the newly built threats.

Harry prayed with all his might that he had correctly instilled his intents into the warriors during their creation, as he has no control over them now, beyond providing the magic needed to keep them together and moving.

Acting in unison, the two warriors jumped with uncanny accuracy upon the heads of the two dragons, and, with their sharp, rocky fingers, slashed at the dragon's eyes. Harry, when he had devised this mad plan, had hoped the magical protection on the dragon's eyes did not apply against pure, physical attacks.

He was right. Both dragons howled in pain, and shook their heads around violently, trying to rid themselves of the miniature foes attached to their head. Following up on Harry's plan, the two rock warriors threw themselves into the wide-open mouths of the shrieking dragons. In their pain and surprise, the dragons forgot to bite down hard on their attackers, thus permitting the animated piles of rock to slide a bit down their throat.

Releasing his magic on the warriors, Harry saw them crumble back into piles of rock, some of which tumbled further down the dragons' throats, momentarily clogging their fire breathing apparatus.

'Com'on! Let's hurry to the other side while they're incapacitated!' Harry urged to a tired Hermione who was staring at him with wide-eyes. In the back, Ron summed up his and Hermione's feelings for the both of them: 'Bloody hell, that was brilliant!'

Blinded and chocking on rocks, the dragons stumped around madly in the hopes of turning their foes into meat pies. However, Harry and friends were able to easily avoid the gigantic feet, with Harry ferrying each one of them across and into the safety of the room beyond using the 'portkey' broom the genie had charmed to get them here. They eagerly closed the doors shut, with Hermione sealing the twin gates with the strongest locking charm she knew, once all companions were safely inside.

'Whew. That was unexpected.' Remarked the genie casually. He turned around to see four pairs of angry eyes glaring back at him.

'We were lucky that my plan went perfectly! Otherwise we'd all be roasted dragon food by now!' Harry said angrily at the genie. He was normally never angry at anyone so frequently, save perhaps Snape and Malfoy, but this genie was really getting on his nerves, what with him constantly springing one deadly surprise after another on them and all. 'Any other things you forgot to tell us perhaps?'

'No, of course not, young master!' The genie said, offended. 'I truly didn't know about the dragons! All my cousin said about this place was that there'd be a few minor traps here and there. I just didn't realize he'd consider dragons as _minor_, that's all. Though considering that he's a lamp genie, I shouldn't be that surprised. Why he can…'

'Will you shut up!' Ron whispered in a deadly tone, his temper getting the better of him. Even in his mad anger, he had the presence of mind to not yell, for Hermione was cradled protectively in his arms, half-asleep, exhausted from keeping up the protective wall for so long. However, she did hear the commotion, and decided to add her own two cents, from her typical know-it-all perspective:

'Those were not just any dragons.' Hermione stated quietly. 'Judging by the way they coordinated their attacks, I'd say they were trained, somehow, even though no one had ever tamed a dragon as far as I know... And that rocky layer they were encased in… I read about it somewhere. It is an ability the dragons used to have, a kind of hibernation and regenerative trance they can put themselves in. But nobody has seen a dragon perform that trance in the last two millennia… This is really fascinating…' Hermione trailed off.

'Mr. Genie, could you tell us who this person we are going to see actually is?' Asked Celeste, an undecipherable look on her face, speaking for the first time for a long while. She was looking slightly worse than before.

'Err… Well, you see…' Started the genie, twirling his thumps, looking guiltily down at the ground.

* * *

Call of help to all READERS:I'm already short on ideas for any more challenges they can face! All suggestions are welcome! If you'd like to see them go through a particular obstacle, please either email me, or preferably, leave it as a review I will credit you with the idea, of course! 

Also, **PLEASE REVIEW!** Takes 2 secs and makes me more eager to write!


	9. And So It Begins

AN: Thanks once again to PassingGirl, FSL and deeps who reviewed. I can't update too frequently as I have many exams coming up, but I could be… motivated to do otherwise if there is a larger number of reviews…

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**And So It Begins…**

_He was, once again, at the bottom of the ocean, heading toward that strange and yet fascinating dimming light that had, in its blaze of glory just mere moments ago, chased away all creatures from these depths. He was, of course, not afraid of the light, for he knew what it was, unlike the fleeing creatures around him, which lived and died without ever seeing any radiance. _

_A fissure had been opened at the bottom of the world, pouring the incandescent light of burning flames into the oceanic depths. Still a fair distance away, he miraculously recalled teachings from his tormented childhood. Was this magma from the burning core, about to erupt? As if responding to his thoughts, the fissure burst open. _

_What was spewing out amazed him. _

_A pair of demonic figures, glowing with the undead blaze of horror stories, sprung forth, the stench of death and decay foreshadowing them. In their wake, giant, mansion-sized, masses of shimmering light followed…_

_Looking closer, he noticed that the demonic figures were not gloriously charging into a conquest, as he had first thought, but seemed to be frantically fleeing away from the glowing orbs trailing them. _

_It was all in vain. _

_The demonic figures, though radiating with abundance of power in their own right, were struck. They immediately crumbled into charred and unrecognizable masses, drifting slowly back to the bottom of the ocean. After a brief period of hesitation, as if trying to make sure all was all right with the world again, the fissure was sealed, from the other side._

_He slowly approached the sealed fissure, for his condition had allowed him to see what others could not. There, within the burned mark of the newly closed scar, was the tiniest of openings. It was not even an opening that a normal, physical body would have been able to pass through. Only he no longer had a physical body. With only the slightest of hesitations, he jammed what was left of his essence through the minuscule crack…_

…_And emerged into the midst of chaos. _

_He had seen many hectic and gruesome battles in his life, having started and starred in quite a few of them. But the scale and grandeur of the battle within which he found himself in was simply mind-blowing._

_Thousands of dragons, the sheer size of which dwarfed any he had ever before seen in his life, flew every which way amidst a crimson sky, with some charging at their foes on foot, running swiftly across dried plains of dirt, the color of which had an uncanny resemblance to dried blood. Titanic balls of fire, ice, lightning, and many other substances he couldn't even start to recognize, were spewing from the strangely colored dragons' mouths, heading inexorably toward the demonic army that the dragons seemed to be battling against. _

_The hellish host was no less imposing in its might: giant hulks of pitch black mists, clad only in glistening armors that formed vague humanoid shapes, advanced without hesitation upon the proud dragon ranks, mighty shield and sickening sword at the ready. Long, snakelike serpents that stretched over half a mile coiled their way through the sky, trying to ensnare the great dragons within their scale and poison clad body, their violet eyes shining with malice. Huge monstrosities, formed out of nothing but bones and magic, hovered slightly above ground, their skeleton wings seemingly still beating to keep them in flight as they lorded over countless hosts of more human looking skeleton warriors that strode toward the mighty dragon armies as one. Horned creatures of all sizes and shapes still poured in, seemingly without end, from over the horizon._

_The battle stretched as far as he could see, in every single direction he could face. _

_Fighting his initial impulse to flee back within the relative safer confines of his own, earthly realm, he scouted across the battlefield, silently observing and glad to notice that he could not be seen. The dragons fascinated him, for not only were they so colossal in size, their eyes also shimmered with an intelligence that he had no doubt could rival his own. As he raced across the monumental clash, he started to gain a slight understanding of what the armies were fighting for._

_The dragons seemed intent on preventing the hellish creatures from opening fissures to god knew where, though random but familiar sights of his own world could be viewed across every single opening he stumbled upon. And the infernal armies seemed bent on successfully opening such a fissure. Their failure so far to accomplish that task was due, as he came to understand, to the fact that they seemed to need to be within a certain distance from a central, colossal monolith, fiercely guarded by the dragons, before being able to open a fissure. He pondered on the reasons behind that need as he leisurely flew above the carnage._

_How long the battle lasted, he did not know, for there was no way for him to keep track of time. _

_Nearing the end of the conflict, and with the outcome very much determined, he flew toward the only battle line still active. It was not hard to find, for all dragons were converging on it. Soon, he came upon the sight of a very imposing host of devilish creatures surrounded utterly by a sea of dragon warriors, who seemed content to circle the obvious leadership of their defeated foes for the time being. In the middle of the hopeless demon host stood a figure that defied all imaginations, radiating evil so pure that it seemed to destroy the light of the world._

_Suddenly, as one, the dragons pounced, sending an incredible assortment of deadly attacks upon their prey. He almost felt sorry for the hellish creatures, for they were, after all, fellow evil beings. To his astonishment, some of the daunting demon warriors withstood the attack, and lashed back at the dragons with their own. Several of the proud, great wyrms fell from the sky as they were struck. He had seen lesser dragons absorbing seemingly worse attacks without a shrug. Obviously, these demons were the mightiest of their race, and the figure they were protecting must be an even mightier foe._

_A second attack from the circling dragons vaporized what was left of the cursed army, with only the ominous figure left standing. The figure appeared to be saying some kind of parting words to the dragons circling it. Then, the figure spread its arms and swiftly clasped its hands together, muttering some kind of unknown, but obviously extremely powerful incantation…_

_The figure exploded in a giant, pitch-black ball of energy that expanded to encompass several miles around it._

_He mentally blinked. What just happened? Looking around, he saw that he was the only sentient thing, no the only thing left for several miles around. A few dragons hovered very high in the sky, seemingly having escaped a fate that their braver (or just more foolhardy, he thought) companions, closer to the final battle, had been caught up in._

_Wandering into the several miles deep pit, he eventually came upon the remains of the figure that caused the horrible explosion. _

_It was still alive!_

_Not alive in the physical sense. But it would seem that the figure had became a bodiless essence as well, an essence that could eventually be reborn, mightier and more terrible than before its demise… An essence that was very, very weak at the moment, he couldn't help but observe._

_Could he do it? Most likely. Should he do it? Why not? He had just witnessed what it was capable of. The thought of all that knowledge and power within his own grasp was too tempting an opportunity to pass on. And this was the perfect, no, the only chance he had, for the figure's essence was weak and confused at the moment._

_He swooped in, eagerly absorbing the essence of a once mighty leader of demonic armies into himself. _

_He was not prepared against the sheer willpower arrayed against him. He briefly wondered if this would be the end of him, as he was foolishly trying to subjugate a mind that had been, whilst in a physical form, far more powerful than he. He shook away the thoughts of his own demise, for he was Lord Voldemort, and he had come too far to lose now._

_Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of struggle, he won through. Though it was not without loss, as part of him had be pulverized forever in the titanic clash of mind and will. A small price to pay for such great knowledge, he thought…_

'My lord! All of our allies have reported in. We are ready to proceed at your command.' Voldemort was drawn away from his dreamy recollections by the somewhat confident voice of a bowing Wormtail.

'Very well. Let us show the world the true might of Lord Voldemort.' The Dark Lord bellowed as he stood up from his throne. Insane cackling soon followed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'They had what?' Asked an incredulous Molly. Besides her, the Grangers and Arthur Weasley were also in shock, albeit with a bit less noise.

'Here, read it for yourself.' Said Remus Lupin, handing her the hastily scratched piece of parchment. Molly read it out loud for the benefit of her fellow parents:

'_Mum and Dad, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley:_

_Ron and I were ambushed by death eaters on our way out from great auntie Helen's place. We fought them off, and we are all fine. We then ran into a bottle genie that insisted on bringing us somewhere (which the genie assured us is very safe) due to a thoughtless wish Ron made. We should be back in a couple of days, don't worry._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_PS: Professor Snape apparated out of nowhere, and he was already unconscious. We have no idea what is going on with him._

_PPS: Mum, dad, please collect my over-the-mail summer courses' homework for me while I'm gone, thanks._' Molly finished reading.

'Rather brief and short on details.' Remarked Mr. Granger. 'That doesn't sound like our Hermione very much…'

'Unless she was lying about something.' Continued Mrs. Granger. 'In that case, she'd give out as few details as possible so we can't piece together that something is wrong…'

'…and not running the risk of contradicting herself.' Finished Mr. Granger. 'She's a very clever little girl, you know. She knows she's not good at lying, so she's trying to not give us the chance to notice that she's lying at all.'

'But we are pretty sure she's lying this time.' Added Mrs. Granger. 'She'd normally have written at least a full, very descriptive page in situations like this.'

'So… What are you saying?' Asked a pretty confused Mr. Weasley. The Grangers, in his opinion, must have spent way too much time together. He was all for loving and caring about his family, but had he spent as much time with his own family as the Grangers must have done, he'd probably be crazy by now.

'We don't know.' Admitted a defeated Mr. Granger. 'But Hermione's a responsible girl. She would never have lied to us unless there is a good reason.'

'So what should we do?' Interjected a slightly annoyed Mrs. Weasley. _All this talk for absolutely no action, talk about wasting time!_ She was very worried for both of the children, especially after what happened to Harry. Thus sitting there, in Grimmauld Place's kitchen, doing nothing but talking wasn't to her liking at all.

'We've already sent out the normal search parties, Molly.' Said Remus, trying to placate the fiery woman. 'But if they truly met a genie, then they could have been taken anywhere. Genies are beings that live through centuries, and know about places that have passed far beyond our knowledge. They are also really, really rare. I really wonder how they could possibly have gotten their hands on one…'

'What about… You-Know-Who's place?' Asked Mrs. Weasley, not appeased at all. 'What if they've been taken there and are being tortured right now?'

Nobody could come up with a suitable answer to that question, thus all present remained silent, each contemplating about their next course of action…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Somewhere, in the tranquil countryside of a state known only for its sweeping dragon reserves, a giant, contorted, vaguely rectangular frame of dark obsidian stone materialized out of thin air. Moments later, an eerie, green light started to shimmer on its event-horizon, forming an obvious portal of some sort.

And then, they came. By the thousands, corpses of all kinds, be it human or animal, or even those of the bigger creatures from the sea, crawled out from the gate. Behind them came legions of basilisks and other lesser snakes of all sorts. Black, misty hulks of walking armor soon followed. Every single creature had a glowing, ghastly green symbol etched into its forehead: the dreaded dark mark of Lord Voldemort.

By sheer luck, a redheaded dragon handler, patrolling his reserve for injured or stray dragons, stumbled upon the horrific sight (fortunately for him, the basilisks didn't have any reason to look up at that time). He immediately flew back to report on his findings. Though it would be of little help.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Bill! Fleur! Wake up now!' Came the urgent voice of a panicked Charlie through the thin fabric of the tent to Bill and Fleur's private rooms. They had decided to take a vacation, around various parts of the world together, and stopped by Romania to visit Bill's brother.

'What is it?' Yelled the Gringotts curse-breaker, a bit irritated at his younger brother for the obvious lack of tact. Not only was it four in the morning, but he and Fleur were both stark naked as well.

'It's V… You-Know-Who! His armies are here! Hurry! We need to get away from this place!' Charlie silently berated himself for still not being able to say the name.

His response, though, had the desired effect as a flurry of movements could be heard inside the tent. Faster than Charlie thought it was possible, his brother and the French beauty hurried out of the tent, all things packed. Bill's robes were inside out and looked to have been put on by a one year old. In contrast, Fleur was, somehow, impeccably dressed and as graceful as ever.

'Here! Take my emergency portkey.' Charlie said, offering Bill a patented, handmade Weasley sweater. 'The activation word is _Norbert_. It should take you to Jezvi. That's the closest all magical community. The Romanian aurors are headquartered there as well, so it should be still safe. You can take the floo or get a better portkey from them.'

'But what about you?' Bill asked, concerned. 'Tell me you're coming with us.'

'I have friends around here still.' Charlie replied, very resolute. 'I need to make sure they are all ok first. See you back at the Order.' And then, seeing the still worried look etched on his brother's face, Charlie added: 'Don't worry, Bill. I'll be on my broom. And there's only one person I know who can out fly me on it.'

And with that, Charlie mounted his broom and zoomed away into the night.

'Lez go, Beel.' Fleur said, giving his hand a squeeze. 'I think zey are coming zis way.' Fleur added, indicating the greenish hue above the forest that seemed to be worming toward them.

'Right. Here, take a hold of this.' Bill offered her the woolen sweater with a big 'C' in the front. 'Norbert!'

And with that, the two lovers winked out from their campsite.

And reappeared into what's left of a once prosperous village. The sight that greeted them would haunt their dreams for years to come: bodies, clad in the deep blue uniform of Romanian aurors, were strewn, like leafs on a windy autumn night, everywhere they looked, their blood painting the once cheerfully decorated town in a morbid crimson. The dark mark hovered above the central building in the village, obviously the auror's headquarters. Burnt corpses of creatures they did not recognize lay amidst those of the fallen aurors, a grotesque smell of death and decay desecrating the final resting place of those who fell defending a just cause. Here and there, a pile of glistening suit of armor, fit for an oversized giant, could be seen crumbled in a heap, surrounded by a ring of blue clad bodies.

'Zis is 'orrible!' Fleur muttered, almost tears in her eyes, though her expression was one of anger and determination.

'What happened here…' Bill couldn't help but murmur, holding Fleur close to him. It wasn't really clear to him at that moment if it was he or Fleur who was being comforted.

'Hey, you!' Came the authoritative voice of a middle-aged, red clad man as he rushed toward them, wand drawn. Bill immediately recognized him.

'Kingsley?' Bill asked, a bit shocked to find the British auror in the middle of Romania. 'What are British aurors doing here?'

'Bill? Weasley?' Shacklebolt replied, equally surprised. But he recovered quickly. 'We came at the request of the Romanian ministry… I guess they need all the help they can get… Especially after this. What are you doing here?'

'I was visiting my brother, Charlie. You know, the dragon handler?' Bill explained. 'He gave us a portkey to here before taking off to warn his friends. He thought that this would be a safe place for us to come… What happened here?'

'We don't know. We just got here ourselves.' Kingsley said gravely. Nodding toward the dark mark hovering in the air, he continued: 'But this is obviously of the dark lord's doing. (Heavy sigh) I'm afraid that this so called second war will be fought on a scale far greater than we had anticipated…'

After a pause, the auror added: 'Perhaps you and the young lady should head for a less… stressful place. Whatever did this might decide to come back to slaughter any survivors. We have a floo connection up and running in one of the local's homes. This way…'

A short while later, Bill and Fleur were standing in front of a tiny fireplace, debating on where they should go next. After a while, Bill finally succumbed to his girlfriend's pleading, puppy-dog eyes. _Or maybe she used her Veela charm on me!_ Bill couldn't help but suspect good-naturedly as Fleur shouted, in an unaccented English (probably for Bill's benefit): 'Delacour Mansion!'

Bill soon followed her into the green flames, grateful that he didn't have to pronounce his destination in French, knowing that he'd probably end up in China had he done so.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

'Dead?' Asked Harry, once again incredulous. He seemed to do a lot of incredulous exclamations lately. 'The person we were suppose to meet is dead?'

'Yeap, has been for the last fourteen hundred years.' Said the genie evenly, as if nothing's wrong with the world.

Hermione swore that she could see steam coming out of Harry's ears.

'Well…' Started Harry in a quiet tone. 'If he's already dead, HOW IN HELL WAS HE SUPPOSE TO HELP CELESTE?'

'Eh… See…' the genie was slightly taken aback by the usually meek boy's anger. 'He left a portrait behind to impart his great knowledge to whoever is worthy enough to reach him… well, the portrait of him, that is.'

'You made me gamble Celeste's life on some thousand years old portrait?'

'Not JUST his portrait!' Declared the genie quickly, trying to appease Harry. 'There's a bunch of powerful magical artifacts lying around his portrait too. So I'm sure that if anyone could heal the young lady, it would be this person… 's portrait.'

'Harry…' Called out Celeste weakly before coughing a bit. 'I'm sure the genie knows what he's doing… He's bound by strong magic to fulfill a wish to the best of his abilities… (cough) If he thinks a portrait is the best there is, then it probably means that there's no healer left in the world that can heal me. (cough, cough) Please trust him…'

Harry looked slightly confused at Celeste's words, and was momentarily puzzled into silence. Ron decided to take over for him, as he was also getting annoyed at the genie's evasiveness: 'Mind telling us who, bloody hell, is this person? That his mere portrait can know enough to heal people that even a genie couldn't?'

'Why, Merlin, of course!' The genie said, as if that knowledge was obvious.

* * *

AN: If you like, please REVIEW. In fact, let's make a deal. I'll post the next chapter as soon as I get 55 reviews, instead of next weekend. I can tell you right nowthat a great deal of plot will be unveiledin the next two chapters! 

Feel free to comment on things like: Was the part about Voldemort's 'dreams' too confusing? Was the armies descriptions to vague? Too detailed? Too grotesque? Was it too offensive to have added scenes of nudity? And anything else you feel like commenting on.


	10. Truth Revealed

**AN**: Woah, 54 reviews by Thursday! That's really good! I ought to make deals with you guys more often :) Since it's the long weekend, I'll upload this now. Also, I'd like to sincerely thank:

Goldigger, PassingGirl, FSL, sirius009, markplc, AlboDraconis and DreamingRabbit for their reviews and encouragements! The story will be unraveling much faster now, so stay tuned :)

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all characters from the Harry Potter books are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. These stories are for pure non-profit personal enjoyment. Only the story plots and original characters are mine.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**Truth Revealed**

'Did you see me blow the head off of that manticore?' Asked a proud Ron as the group sat around a magical campfire, crunching on some overcooked lion meat, to Hermione's great chagrin. The group had been reluctant to eat meat off of creatures they had just defeated, for it seemed a bit inhumane. But after a whole day drinking nothing but water that they magically drew out from the earth around them, and after Celeste had almost collapsed from hunger, Harry, and the group, quickly changed their mind.

The lion had been the first in a series of progressively more magical and more dangerous creatures that popped out of these freshly layed eggs from a gigantic riddle asking chicken that punished every wrong answer by laying one aforementioned egg. The whole ordeal had been slightly mind contorting, as the group didn't know if they should laugh at the ridiculous riddle asking chicken or scream in fear at some of the creatures coming out of her eggs, such as the manticore. The fact that the chicken was carved out of stone didn't help improve the group's sanity at all. Ron had even tried to blow the chicken to pieces, only to have the statue lay ten eggs in a row in retaliation.

'Yeah, that was a pretty advanced blasting hex there, Ron. I was pretty sure we were done for back then.' Commented Harry between bites. He was too famished to pay attention to his table manners, even with Celeste and Hermione present.

'Thanks... And good thinking with that whole backdoor to the maze thing, Hermione.' Added Ron, a bit embarrassed by Harry's praise. 'Who knows how long we could have spent in that 3D maze with all those stairs and ladders had you not found that convenient passage.'

'Well…' Began Hermione shyly, not used to praise from her redheaded best friend. 'It was nothing, really. I just thought that maybe whoever built the maze would also have left a 'key under the front mat', so to speak.'

'Well, in any case, I'm really glad that you guys came with me.' Said Harry genuinely, thinking about time his friends had help him save. 'I couldn't have come this far without you.'

'I am grateful as well…' Added Celeste weakly before collapsing in a fit of coughs. She was withering away before their very eyes.

'We are glad to be of help.' Hermione offered. 'We couldn't have just left Harry in his greatest time of need, could we? (Slight pensive pause) Anyway, I wonder what's going on up there, back home… It's been a whole day…'

'Bah, what could possibly happen in a single day? Bet it's the same old boring reports back at the Order.' Said Ron dismissively, diving his oil stained face back into his food.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_**You-Know-Who Seizes Eastern Europe in a Single Night!**_

_In a single night, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sent out an army of strange creatures, mainly comprised of undead bodies, and seized most of the major countries in Eastern Europe. It is not known at this time where the dark lord found such an army, or how he was able to move it into position without being detected. However, the results cannot be denied, as most east-European nations' ministries of magic have undergone a minister change overnight, and now swear allegiance to the dark lord._

_Unconfirmed reports indicate that the dark lord's armies are now advancing toward Western Europe. Various ministries on the continent are trying to coordinate their defenses as we speak. _

'_Why us? How come he didn't invade you guys first?' A German ministry official was quoted as yelling on an over-the-floo interview with one of our journalists. The British ministry currently is at a loss to answer that question._

'_We're just lucky You-Know-Who seems to be keeping all his conquering the world business within the magical community right now.' Remarked a British ministry official at the now hectic ministry building. 'Who knows what kind of chaos we'd have to deal with had he started causing mayhem with muggles as well?'_

_It is indeed strange that the dark lord have not brought war upon the muggle population, as the hate of muggles and muggleborn wizards or witches is the most fundamental of the dark lord's purity oriented philosophies. A reliable source within the newly swelled ranks of the dark lord's minions had informed us, on condition of anonymity, that the dark lord plans to consolidate power within the magical world first before striking decisively against those 'disgusting muggles'. Our source further advised that it is probably best for 'all those filthy -censored- to seek refuge with their -censored- muggle relatives if they wish to live long enough to see the dark lord purge the world of muggles'._

_With the recent passing of the Boy-Who-Lived, one wonders if there is anyone left to oppose the dark lord and his forces, as our ministry has already become highly disorganized for a country that has yet to be invaded. Can our beloved headmaster of Hogwarts, the famed Albus Dumbledore, rise to the challenge, and rid the world of another dark lord?_

_For a list of countries now under You-Know-Who's control, see p. D7_

_For pictures and illustrations of the creatures in the dark lord's army, see p. E12_

_For comments and musings on the strange change in You-Know-Who's behavior as of late, see p. E14_

_For an in-depth analysis of the war and its possible outcomes, see p. F1-15_

_For a list of popular doomsday sayings and one-liners to proclaim the end of the world, see p. Z99_

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Charlie Weasley, along with seven of his fellow dragon handlers, were among a rare group of brave wizards and witches that volunteered into the hastily assembled militia that was supposed to augment the auror forces defending Germany's ministry of magic's building. Of course, by the time the militia organized themselves into a passably coordinated force and arrived at the ministry, there were no aurors left to play a supporting role to. To further their bad luck, Charlie and friends had portkeyed straight in front of one of the giant suits of armor, seemingly held together by a mere cloud of black mist, twin glowing green orbs where the eyes should be the mist's only distinctive feature.

His rusty seeker skills stretched to the max, Charlie barely had time to throw himself on the ground as the giant armor's sword swept past him. Luckily, he, as his small team's leader (thus standing in front), had been the only one within range of the weapon. The rest of his team wasted no time in sending a huge number of curses and jinxes of various sorts at the metallic/misty hulk, with the coordinated efficiency of years of working together to subdue gigantic dragons. To their horror, all of their spells bounced harmlessly off of the armor, and those that hit the misty substance vanished without any apparent effect.

Charlie, no longer facing the business end of a twelve feet long sword, tried a strong wind charm against the suit of armor, hoping to blow the mist away. It seemed to have worked slightly, as the black mist shifted in the wind, and the suit of armor slowed down its attacks.

'Everyone! Cast the strongest wind charm you know, on three!' Commanded Charlie. 'One, two, three!'

And as one, eight wind spells were cast, unleashing a torrent of air current upon the misty warrior. The combined power of the eight wizards blew the black mist away from its suit of armor, which promptly crumbled to the ground, having lost the substance that seemed to sustain and animate it. Charlie and friends slowly turned their attention toward the larger battle around them, and lost what little hope they had gained from their defeat of the hulking armor.

Though the masses of undead creatures were falling like paper dolls against the fire spells of the militia, their seemingly never-ending number was exhausting even the hardiest of them. It was obvious by now that this battle was lost.

Charlie had barely finished ordering his team to gather around him and portkey back to safety when the unmistakable sounds of clinking metal armor were heard behind him. Turning his head back, he saw, to his amazement and great dismay, that the suit of armor his team had defeated only moments ago was now reassembling itself, the black mist having seemingly returned to reclaim its physical shell. Noticing that all of his team was accounted for and touching the portkey he was holding, Charlie promptly spoke the activation word.

Not a moment too soon, as a giant sword swept through the empty air where the entire team had been a fraction of a second earlier.

Doing its best imitation of a shrug, the black mist and its giant suit of armor moved swiftly toward the now flaming building of the German ministry of magic.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

'So, what are we going to do, Albus?' Asked a nervous Minerva McGonagall as she put down the Daily Prophet, hands still trembling. 'Do we even know where he kept such a large army? He couldn't have possibly conjured them up in one night, could he? He can't be that powerful… Nobody is…'

'Calm down, Minerva.' Said Dumbledore soothingly. 'He is not that powerful. I suspect he kept all of his forces in the vast underground network that now lays beneath Azkaban, as Severus has told us before he was incapacitated. And Charlie has just informed me about this portal that he had seen, which explains how Voldemort was able to deploy such a slow and noticeable army so fast and without our knowledge.'

'So what are we going to do about it?' Asked an eager Tonks, who just walked into the kitchen and caught the tail end of Dumbledore's musings.

'Patience, Nymphadora. Let us wait until everyone is assembled.' Offered the headmaster, oblivious to the death-glare the young auror was giving him upon hearing her first name.

Before long, most of the Order of the Phoenix were assembled in the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place. All have heard of the fall of Eastern Europe, and some, like Charlie, had first hand experience in the matter. Suffice to say that the chatter noise in the room was far above normal.

After Dumbledore called the meeting to order, which took longer than usual, he started with the obligatory speech, which contained little new information than what was already known.

'Albus! In a time like this, I think it is even more imperative that we find the children and return them here, for safety!' Molly Weasley practically shouted seconds after Dumbledore had finished his starting announcement.

'Molly! Though the matter is of high importance to us, we have far more pressing matters to attend to at the present. All magical scans and tracings we've conducted indicate that Ron and Hermione were fine and healthy when they disappeared from that street corner. I think we…'

'What do you mean, more pressing matters? What can possibly be more pressing than saving the lives of two innocent children?' Molly cut Dumbledore off, obviously venting an entire day of pent up worries and frustrations.

'We need to coordinate evacuation efforts and try to stop, or at least stall, the dark lord's army's advance. This could potentially save hundreds, maybe thousands, of lives, many of them children.' Retorted Dumbledore with assertiveness.

'But…' Molly stuttered, not sure what to say against that.

'Molly, let us give Ms. Granger and young Mr. Weasley the benefit of the doubt for now. They told us that their little escapade would not require more than a few days. We shall go look for them in earnest should we be still without news of them two days from now.' Dumbledore offered to placate the redhead woman.

'Oh… thank… you Albus… I am sorry for my outburst… It's just that, with Harry only so recently… gone… I couldn't bare to lose…'

'It's quite understandable, Molly.' Said Dumbledore calmly but dismissively. 'Now perhaps we should focus on how best to help our allies on the continent. I have received an urgent request for aid from my counterpart at Beauxbatons Academy. Madame Maxime is asking us to help evacuate as many of the muggleborn students and their families as possible to Hogwarts in provision to the eminent invasion that the French ministry of magic is facing from the East.'

'I believe that me and Hagrid can help with that', offered Remus politely. 'Seeing as how Hagrid is already at Beauxbatons anyway, and French people are less sensitive to werewolves than people here.'

'Thank you, Remus. I was hoping you'd volunteer, as you are far better than the most of us when it comes to helping organize operations of this scale.' Dumbledore offered sincerely, knowing that the werewolf was the most meticulous and well-organized person in the room.

'Next, we should concentrate our efforts in devising a clear strategy to stop, or at least stall, Voldemort's army. As you all know, that army far outnumbers our ranks, or even the ranks of the entire British auror corps, for that matter. What we need is something clever that exploits the army's weaknesses.' Dumbledore declared with a small twinkle in his eyes. 'You've all read reports on what the dark lord's army consists of, but I think we could all benefit from a first hand account in this matter. Charlie?'

Charlie, having not received this kind of attention since his seeker days at Hogwarts, was slightly shy at first, but quickly grew comfortable as he detailed his run-ins with the dark lord's forces. By the end of his account, most in the room wore identical looks of defeat in their eyes.

'Charlie's strategy against these suits of armor was sound.' The voice of Dumbledore brought everyone out of his or her personal contemplations. 'I believe we can achieve a more permanent effect if we simply take care of this mist creature once it is blown out of its protective shell.'

'But how, Albus?' Asked Minerva. 'Charlie just said that the spells they hit the mist with were simply absorbed!'

'Ah, true, true, my dear Minerva. But think about it. How would one usually get rid of fog?'

'Well, here, in London, we just wait until either the sun vaporize the fog away, or wait until the rain comes down and condenses what's left of the fog.'

'Precisely!' Dumbledore exclaimed. 'I suspect that, since the mist creature seemed affected by wind just as normal mist would have been, we can also assume that heat or cold would have the same effect on the creatures as they would on normal mist.'

'So you're saying we can vaporize the mist creatures with heat?' Asked an incredulous Charlie, who was cursing himself for not thinking of this during the battle.

'Perhaps. There is no way to know until we try it.' Dumbledore said cautiously.

'Well, this is easy. Since we are using fire spells against those zombies already, we can simply use fire on those giant armor suits as well.' Cried someone in the back of the room.

'Indeed. Charlie, Alastor, please assemble a team to test out this theory as soon as possible.' Dumbledore directed. 'Last I heard, part of Voldemort's army is headed for Austria; you may wish to conduct your tests there.'

'And what of the zombies themselves? I heard there was even a few sharks crawling in that undead army!' Yelled someone else in the back of the room.

'I suspect that Voldemort animated these corpses weeks, if not months in advance, on Azkaban. It is fortunate that his powers does not yet allow him to reanimate corpses on the spot, or we might be forced to face our very own comrades on the battlefield as soon as they fall…' Dumbledore trailed off a bit. 'In any case. The most potent magic against such creatures would be holy magic, or those of very pure intent, such as the Patronus Charm. But fire spells are usually fairly effective as well. Those of us who…'

And the meeting continued long into the night.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

'Where are we now?' Asked a very tired Harry as he stared at the sight before him.

They seemed to be on the shore of a giant lake, or sea, for he could not see any land on the other side. The ceiling stretched beyond the limit of their vision, and a bright, sunlike light, shone down on them from miles and miles above. Despite the generous light source, Harry and friends could not see the ceiling, though fluffy white clouds and even a few seabird like creatures arched across the 'sky' above. Had they not already known, they would never have suspected that this magnificent place was located twenty-five miles beneath the earth.

Glancing at the vast body of water before him, Harry immediately saw a small island, situated about half a mile from the shore. The island was of the strangest shape he'd ever seen. It was almost cylindrical in nature, looking as if someone planted a giant, round stick in the middle of the water. The wall of the cylindrical mountain appeared to be incredibly smooth. _Not very good for climbing_, thought Harry. And there, at the top of the island, sat the unmistakable form of a medieval castle.

'I think this is the final step. According to my cousin, that castle is where Merlin's portrait is located.' The genie offered helpfully. He seemed to have mellowed out considerably since the start of this strange journey, perhaps because none in the group ever laughed at his satiric remarks. The entire group was now also far battle-hardened than they had been at the start, as they've been forced to brave through hellish traps that would make all but the hardiest wizards tremble in fear, flee from heavenly temptations that would have impeded many a greedy dark lord, not to mention deal with magical guardians that Hermione hadn't even read about, and even duel with mirror images of themselves that could read their every move. All in all, it had been a 'near-fatal but truly eye-opening experience', as Hermione had put it.

'Hmm… I see no boat, and I doubt we can climb that island's wall once we get there anyway.' Commented Harry as he looked up and down the shoreline. 'Why don't I fly us all to the island there? I still have the broom…' Trailed Harry as he eagerly brandished the now almost twig-less broom in front of his three companions.

'Err…' Hermione started, not confident at all about the mangled broom's qualifications as a dust-sweeping device, and even less about its ability to fly properly.

Beside her, Celeste suddenly started another fit of coughs. When she withdrew her hands, which she had used to cover her mouth, generous amounts of blood could be seen dripping from them.

'Celeste!' Harry cried in concern. They have come too far to fail her now. 'Listen, Ron, Hermione! I'm going to fly Celeste and myself up there. We'll try to find Merlin's portrait and get her cured as soon as possible. I will come and get you guys after. Ok?'

'Of course mate! Go save the girl!' Said Ron enthusiastically before Hermione could object. The prospect of waiting on the sidelines, worrying her heart out about Harry and the success of their small mission, didn't exactly appeal to Hermione. Still, she supposed that there is no other choice. _At least Ron will be here to keep me company_, thought Hermione. And for some reason, the idea of having a giant argument with Ron suddenly popped up in her head; she smiled.

'Well, take care!' Harry waved as he took off, Celeste securely cradled in his arms in front of him, with the genie's bottle strapped into one of his shirt pockets.

'Err? They… were all ready and just left? Did I space out or something?' Hermione asked.

'Well, I would think that was obvious…' Ron offered.

Hermione let the little jab slide for now, as the two best friends followed Harry's diminishing shape across the sky.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_Well, this seems easy_, thought Harry as he made his way toward the island's castle. Even from this distance, he could glimpse a giant portrait through the open windows of the stone keep.

'Watch out!' The genie warned, pulling Harry out of his blind focus on the portrait. Harry instinctively jerked his broom left, in a classic bludger-dodging maneuver. A seabird zipped right through the space he had been a fraction of a second earlier, its wings clipping his gray cloak… and slicing cleanly through the fabric like a razor sharp blade. Looking at the bird more carefully, Harry discovered to his horror that it was not a bird at all! But a metallic contraption best described as two short swords melted together in a 'V' pattern. The contraption was, of course, magically charmed to fly.

Glancing around quickly, Harry noticed that all the flying 'birds' and clouds have now converged on his position. And, was it just him, or was the sky darkening by the second? Looking up, Harry could no longer see the sunlike light that radiated comfort and serenity. Instead, he was confronted with a black cover of clouds that seemed forbiddingly gloomy and promising ill news for all those unfortunate enough to be caught under them.

'Uh-oh…' Harry said, a bit discouraged.

'Cast a quick shield over yourself, now!' The genie urged.

Harry didn't need to be told twice. As fast as his lips could move, he cast three powerful shields over himself and Celeste, one against physical attacks, one against magical attacks, and the third one against both in case the first two failed. It seemed to have worked, as the 'birds' can no longer harm him for the time being, and the giant bolts of lightning from the sky crashed more or less harmlessly against his shield, with the only visible effect of making Harry's hair stand on end.

And then, it started to rain.

'Acid! Wow… this is some pretty good magic.' The genie commented.

Harry was far less inclined to praise the magic that was now raining melting liquid upon him. His shields were absorbing all the damage, for now. As a consequence of the strain put on his shielding, the spherical and invisible bubbles of protection around him grew smaller and smaller, and parts of his broom was now exposed to the rain. Harry silently urged the broom to go faster, speeding with all the power he could muster toward the top of the island…

And he would have made it too, had it not been for the mile high sea snake like head that suddenly popped out of the water surface and threatened to swallow him and Celeste whole. Harry swiftly veered away from the creature, which contented itself with spraying him with some sort of digestive fluid instead, further shrinking his already strained shielding.

'Is this it?' Harry yelled out to no one in particular as he clung to his rapidly melting broom. 'No! I will not let Celeste die! I will not fail another time!'

But words alone could not save him, as he and Celeste (and the genie, who, strangely, choose to remain silent) dropped toward the acid laced lake, where more of the giant sea snake heads awaited them.

Harry decided to serenely hold on to Celeste, and whisper his apologies for failing her during the precious few moments between the start and end of his fall. He had closed his eyes in shame, for he was truly mortified to have failed her so miserably.

Suddenly, the sound of torn fabric reached his ears, and, opening his eyes, Harry saw a shimmering light brightly blinding him before disappearing in a burst magic, to be replaced by, as far as his half-blinded eyes could tell, a giant mass of darkened silver.

And then, he was ascending again. Looking incomprehensibly around him, he could only make out, through the haziness of his still unrecovered eyes, more mass of silver surrounding him. Suddenly a bright torrent of blue lightning rushed away from him, hitting the form of the giant sea snake that had blocked his flight earlier dead on, zapping it into unconsciousness. And then, with possibly the worst landing in Harry's memory, he crashed onto the island's top surface.

Harry quickly rolled down from the hunk of silver that had carried him to the island, his eyesight having returned to him some time during the 'landing'. Glancing back, he was astonished to see a monstrous silver dragon spreading its magnificent wings before him. The silvery beast, its shinny, reflective skin oddly dark in the now clearing skies, was easily three times as tall as the largest dragon Harry had seen in his life-time. Looking up, Harry was surprised to see the dragon's crystal blue eyes staring straight back into his own emerald green ones, with something akin to pleading. As if it had been waiting for their gaze to lock all along, the resplendently argent dragon gracefully folded its wings back and, with a whimpering howl, collapsed onto the ground, shimmering into light as it did so. When Harry's eyes could see again, the naked and familiar figure of Celeste layed on the spot where the dragon had been.

'So, you finally get to find out, eh?' Came the annoying voice of the genie somewhere in Harry's back as he stood there, too shocked for words.

* * *

AN: Please REVIEW! And answer questions like: Did any of you see that one coming? Was the whole 'dungeon crawling' part of the journey too short? Do you guys feel like Harry's too weak (compared to other fics out there)? And is the character of Celeste still believable? 

I did a bit of foreshadowing from the start, but I guess the best clues were in the last chapter. Anyhow, I'm in uncharted waters, and would very much appreciate your opinion on what you think of this story.


	11. The Branch of Souls

AN: Thank you, all the people who have reviewed! One of you made an interesting comment about a little 'seed' of the plot I dropped 4 chapters ago, so I can'tcomments on it. Look forward to its reappearance though.

**Chapter Eleven**

**The Branch of Souls**

_When Harry's eyes could see again, the naked and familiar figure of Celeste layed on the spot where the dragon had been._

'_So, you finally get to find out, eh?' Came the annoying voice of the genie somewhere in Harry's back as he stood there, too shocked for words.

* * *

_

_What's going on?_ Harry thought, confused. _That dragon… Was it Celeste? Celeste is a dragon? How is it possible? Is she an animagus? But I heard Hermione say that an animagus can never take on the form of a magical creature! What's going on here? And why was that dragon so big? Celeste…_

'Well, what are you waiting for? She's dying, you know!' The genie urged on, snapping Harry out of his stupor.

_Right. I should focus on saving her… (or is it _it_?) first_. Harry mentally tasked himself.

As he approached Celeste's nude body, he couldn't help but stare at her perfect curves, her thin, slender arms, her incredibly smooth and cute neck, her… Harry quickly tried to focus his attention on some other, less intimate part of her body. _Her feet_, Harry thought. _Yeah, her feet. Concentrate on those small, cuddly feet of hers… Or her long, sensual legs… Or even her…_ His gaze was about to involuntarily travel further up her body when he had the decency to look away in shame. _Whatever she might be_, Harry thought, _she certainly looks_ very _human right now_.

Taking off his slightly torn gray cloak, he carefully wrapped it around Celeste's naked frame and cradled her protectively into his arms.

'Harry…?' Celeste asked weakly through half-closed eyelids. 'Hehe, now you know my secret… I think I have to kill you…' She said that last part with a sad smile on her face.

'Shhh… Keep your strength.' Harry offered soothingly, thinking she was only kidding. Now that he regained a bit of sane mind to think, he could clearly see that Celeste had saved his life just moments ago, probably shortening her own life through the effort. 'Let's get you healed first, ok?'

Celeste merely nodded, apparently too weak to talk.

Harry gently scooped her up in his arms, and guided them toward the gigantic fortress, wary for any last minute traps that might come their way. He magically pushed the front doors open with a flick of his wand, thinking there might be more traps there.

'Come in, young lad.' Came a wizened and very aged voice. Looking into the castle, Harry could see that the entire stronghold had only a very simple structure: there was a single great hall which probably occupied most of the interior space available, with stairs and doors on the side leading to, what Harry could only guess, a few antechambers or up the turrets.

'Can you promise me there's no more traps?' Harry asked, thinking that he could trust the word of the greatest wizard in history.

'Of course I can't. But I can sense that you are a kind soul, and the err… young lady there is definitely trustworthy, so I will not unleash any traps on you anymore.' The portrait of Merlin, hung on the far side of the great hall, directly facing the entrance, replied with a smile.

Needing no further prodding, Harry quickly carried Celeste into the hall. Casting a cursory glance around while making his way toward the gigantic portrait of Merlin, Harry noticed huge amounts of armor, swords, pendants, rings, and many other less recognizable things scattered across the floor of the hall, piling up into small hills here and there. Even without examining them closely, Harry could feel the raw magical power emanating from them.

The walls of the great hall itself were lined with torches burning with colors of all sorts, though a giant torch of green flame stood at the center of the hall. But an inexplicable golden, and not green, hue dominated the entire place, giving it a warm feel despite the hall's austere furnishings. Harry couldn't help but notice the gigantic dragon shaped shadow cast by Celeste in the light of the green flame torch.

'So, what is it you seek, young man, that you dared to travel through so much torment?' Merlin's portrait asked in a not unkind voice.

'Celeste.' Harry gestured toward the almost unconscious girl in his arms with a nod. 'She's dying, and I heard that you're the only one who can save her.'

'Hmm…' The old man in the portrait appeared to carefully examine the various shadows of Celeste that were created by the myriad of different colored torch flames lined along the wall. An examination that, to Harry, seemed to take forever.

'You are correct. She has lost much of her life-force. Even now, I can see the malice of dark magic still at work against her life. There is but one thing that can save her. And I do have it here, somewhere…' Merlin trailed off, looking around the hall for something. 'But tell me, young man, how is it that you know of me, and of this place, and that I have what you need? You do not appear a day older than sixteen. I find it hard to believe that you'd have enough knowledge to find out about this place.' Merlin asked as his eyes kept scanning the great chamber.

'Well, I ran into…'

'Let me handle this one, lad.' The genie said pompously, popping out from his bottle.

'Ah! Another genie, I see.' Merlin remarked, and soon returned to his search. 'What might your name be?'

'I'm called Genie!' The genie said proudly. 'My cousin, Genie, I don't know if you remember him, visited you a few centuries ago. He told me about this place, and most of what's in here. So I immediately thought of you when I realized that the young lady's life-force was too far gone.'

'Ah… yes… yes… I remember Genie. He was a lamp genie, right? I…' Merlin trailed off, focusing his attention on some obscure part of the hall. 'Ah, here we are. Go over there, Harry.' Merlin pointed vaguely. Seeing as he was a two-dimensional portrait, his ability to correctly point at something was fairly limited.

Harry silently complied, not really caring to ask how Merlin (or, more precisely, the portrait) knew of his name. He guessed that Merlin, being the most powerful wizard that had lived, would have his ways to know everything about anyone, and probably conferred much of his abilities onto his portrait.

'You see that thick stick there?' The portrait of Merlin pointed again. Harry nodded; he was pretty close to the thing. 'Well, pull it out, but be very careful not to let anyone else, not even the genie, touch it.'

Harry carefully set Celeste down against the closest wall (seeing as how there were no chairs or the like in the hall), and carelessly threw down the genie's bottle (to the genie's indignant protests) before proceeding to pull the thick stick out of the pile of jewels it was embedded in. It was easy enough.

The stick appeared to be a very old branch from a tree of some sort. It had been polished with great precision, and its surface felt as smooth as marble. Strange runes of all sorts were carved onto it, and four hand-shaped cavities (two at either end) were carved into the wood. The four holding grips made the entire thing look almost like a fancy stick for a tug-of-war game, or something of the sort.

'What is this?' Harry asked the mandatory question.

'That, young Harry, is the Branch of Souls.' Merlin stated dramatically. After a lack of response from Harry, Merlin asked: 'eh, you do know what the Branch of Souls is, right Harry? You came for it all this way, after all.'

Shake of head. Dirty look toward genie.

'Hmm… I see. Well, there is no time for a detailed history lesson.' Merlin said. 'Simply put, this branch can be used to transfer life-force between two people.'

'Why didn't you say so earlier?' Harry remarked as he strode toward Celeste with huge, determined steps.

'Wait Harry!' Merlin cried out. Harry, a bit tired with all the wait and talk that he had endured up to now, choose to ignore the most respected and knowledgeable wizard in recorded history. _Celeste is dying. Whatever it is can wait until after I heal her_, Harry thought worriedly, dark memories of another babbling, controlling old man flashing through his mind.

Harry suddenly felt his entire body freeze up, unable to move. After a while of being paralyzed, he was suddenly released from the binding, and, because of the position he was in, lost his balance and fell clumsily on the floor.

'Harry James Potter. Do try to listen when your better tries to warn you.' The portrait stated very authoritively, his voice filled with power. Harry was pretty sure by now that the portrait had somehow paralyzed him just a moment earlier. 'That branch can kill you both, if you're not careful. You and Celeste should both know how it works before doing anything. I shall attempt to be quick.'

'As I said before, this is the Branch of Souls. It does indeed allow for the transfer of life-force from one being to another. HOWEVER', Merlin shouted to regain Harry's attention. 'The Branch of Souls can transfer the life-force in four different ways, depending on the intent of the one who first came into contact with the Branch. The first method is drain, where the first holder drains the entire life-force of the second holder into his own body. The second method is the exact opposite of the first. The third method simply swaps the life-force of one holder with the other. And the last, and most difficult to achieve method would equalize the life-force between the two holders.

(Here, Merlin drew in a nonexistent breath)

'Which method will be used depends entirely on the intent of the person who first held on to the stick. In your case, I would assume that you'd want to use the fourth method. But most people in a situation similar to yours and who made use of this Branch end up inadvertently triggering the second method, for most of them had been too selfless when wielding the Branch, and thus fatally triggered the wrong method. However, if they try to contain their selflessness too much, they'd end up becoming slightly selfish, and thus triggering the drain mode.

(Quick breath)

'From what I've gathered over the years, I believe that, in order to trigger the last method of life-force transfer, one needs to be in a somewhat controlled state of selflessness, and not blindly lay all of one's life at the other's feet. But this has to be done without focusing on preserving one's own life, for that would be selfish. The fine-tuning of one state of mind to properly trigger the equalization mode is something very hard to do, especially between lovers. So,

(Another breath)

'I advise you to mentally practice a bit before trying anything. Also, be warned that there are consequences to using each method of the Branch of Souls, and that…'

A bright flash of light interrupted the portrait's speech. The clatter of wood on stone could be heard as Harry slumped to the ground, the Branch of Souls lying beside him. A now revitalized, though still somewhat weak, Celeste quickly brought Harry's head into her lap, looking down with concern at the raven-haired boy that had just saved her life. _Is he safe?_ Celeste thought panicked. _Did he just exchange his vitality with my dying life?_ Celeste wondered why had this boy gone through so much simply to save her. He had trusted her implicitly, demonstrating nothing but loyalty and friendship to her, a stranger who had manipulated his very memories the first time they met.

And she might have to kill him too, eventually. After all, he had seen her true form. According to the instructions she was given when she entered this world, she cannot leave witnesses to the existence of her kind. That had been the law for any of her people who needed to walk on this Earth, ever since their exile from this world. And who was she to break age-old laws, she, who had barely hatched from her egg?

But then, why was she hoping with all her being that the strange boy laying in her lap would live? And what was this strange liquid dripping down from her eyes when she contemplated the prospect of never talking to Harry again? Would it not simplify matters for her if he just died from the magical transfer? Strange, alien emotions filled her thoughts as she lovingly gazed down at Harry, slowly stroking his hair with her soothing hands.

'I… I'm ok. Just a bit surprised by becoming so weak all of a sudden.' Harry said to her through half closed eyes, seemingly revived. Celeste let out a sigh of relief and promptly hugged him as close as she could manage. _Why am I so relieved? This only means I will have to kill him myself later._ Celeste thought sadly as she sank herself peacefully into his warm embrace.

'Em… Celeste… I, eh… can see your…' Harry gestured vaguely toward Celeste's chest area, where the gray cloak he had wrapped her with earlier no longer covered her properly.

'Oh… Um… Right.' Celeste said, carelessly shifting the fabric around to cover herself. She had never been too keen on these strange human obsessions with covering themselves. After all, in her world, all dragons flew around with nothing but their hide. But somewhere within her suppressed human instincts, she felt a twinge of embarrassment, and… a slight burst of satisfaction when she noticed the small, almost unnoticeable sense of desire embedded in Harry's looks toward her even after she had had re-covered herself.

'How are you feeling?' They said at the same time, and smiling slightly at each other at the verbal coincidence.

'Ah, so it has started…' Commented Merlin ominously behind them.

'What has started?' They said together, once more.

'The side effects.' Stated Merlin's portrait gravely. 'I told you that there'd be consequences with using any of the four methods, did I not?'

'Err… Well, I guess I stopped listening by that point…' Harry said sheepishly, now in a sitting position with Celeste by his side; she was unconsciously holding his hand against her chest, taking comfort in his well-being.

'Well, I must say that it's a miracle that you've managed to trigger the fourth method of transfer.' Scolded Merlin before continuing. 'Now you must live with the consequences, should you chose to.' Celeste couldn't help but notice the incredibly piercing glare Merlin's painting was giving her. _He knows!_ She thought, panicked. _How could a mere portrait know that I thought of killing the boy? Can he read my mind? No! He's just a portrait!_

Harry, having completely missed the glare from Merlin's painting, simply asked the obvious: 'What do you mean, if we chose to?'

'Well, let me explain the side effects first. You will understand it far better then.' Merlin started. 'When two people share their life-forces as you two have just done, their fate will become intertwined… For you see, the link between your life-forces will eventually become permanent.'

'What does that mean?' Interrupted Harry. 'And what's this life-force you keep going on about?'

'You really ought to show more respect to the great Merlin, young boy.' Scolded the genie. He seemed to have returned into his bottle for a while and had, just now, come back out.

'Where have you been?' Asked Harry reflexively, a bit curious.

'Ah. I was reporting back to my superiors on another job well done.' Explained the genie cryptically. 'Only 526 wishes left to grant before I'm allowed to go back!'

'Err… Good for you.' Harry faked enthusiastically. He had no idea what the genie was babbling about. The genie apparently did not notice his deception, or was simply to overjoyed to care.

'This is cheerful news indeed, Mr. Genie. How long are you required to wait between granting wishes?' Merlin asked sincerely, apparently knowing what's going on.

'Bah! Only one hundred of these earthly years. No sweat!' The genie replied, still very happy.

'Well, in any case. To answer your questions, Harry.' Merlin started, turning his attention back onto the teens. 'Your life-force is kind of like a quantitative representation of your health. The more you have of it, the healthier you are. Just like your health, you can replenish your life-force if it gets diminished, but only up to a certain point. After which, like you almost saw with Celeste here, you'd die. Also, as you get older, you will eventually exhaust your life-force reserve, and pass on. Do you follow me so far?'

'Yeah! Basically, life-force is my health, right?'

'True. However, your life-force represents far more than just your health. It is also linked to your thoughts, your emotions, your personality, and all sorts of indescribable things that distinguish you from your peers.' Merlin said sagely. 'As I said, your life-forces will eventually become permanently linked, once you exhaust what's left of your own life-force prior to the transfer.

'To have your life-force permanently linked to another can be a blessing and a curse. For example, linked in that way, you shall not die so long as there is enough life-force left between the two of you to sustain your lives. This can be a blessing, for, unless you are both killed simultaneously, you can survive an otherwise deadly blow by drawing upon the life-force of your partner.

'But this can also be a curse, for someone can keep the both of you under constant torment by simply beating one of you to an inch of death, forcing the other to sustain the injured one, and thus become very weak in the process. In rare cases, if someone knows of your link, he can even kill the both of you by simply focusing on killing one of you over and over, as the one not getting killed will be forced to keep sharing his or her life-force with the one that is getting killed, and, eventually, even the healthy partner will not have enough life-force left to keep the both of your alive.'

'So we have no control over the sharing process?' Asked Harry, concerned. Celeste was completely silent.

'None what-so-ever. It would be as if both of your life-force is contained in the same pool.' Merlin answered. 'Also, because of this link, you will eventually be able to hear each other's thoughts, and feel each other's feelings. This can also be a blessing, for couples that are in love seek this as the ultimate prize they can have.

'But for two people who might not be as compatible, they'd eventually drive each other insane, for they'd constantly hear each other's thoughts, knowing about the other's deepest secrets and realizing that the other would be equally aware of yours. They would perpetually feel the other's feelings, confusing those feelings with his or her own, and even acting on them.

'In most cases, the two involved would end up hating each other for tormenting each other so much, and consequently, they'd feel hateful toward themselves. I've never known of an incompatible pair that didn't end up killing each other, or committing suicide… Which, because of the life-force sharing, are kind of the same.'

Harry nervously gulped: 'So, basically, you're saying that we'd either end up loving each other, or killing each other, right?' Harry asked, looking at Celeste to see what she thought on the matter. For some reason, Celeste was averting his gaze.

'More or less. Though it is not proven that those are the only two eventualities. I simply have not heard of any other during my living years, and even after that.' Merlin replied thoughtfully. 'That was why I said _if you chose to_. It is still possible at this stage for one of you to escape death, but not for long.

'If you believe that you'd eventually drive each other insanely murderous, then now is the only time where one of you can… die without the other one being affected through the life-force link. For you are both still living on what's left of your own life-force before the transfer, even you, young lady. If one of the partners dies right now, than the life-force link will be unable to be completed, and thus the surviving partner can keep on living, without any of the consequences I've just mentioned. When the link is complete, you can no longer destroy the other without killing yourself as well, and thus will be forced to endure the other's thoughts and feelings, as well as physical hardships and the such.

It might sound cruel, but sometimes, it is best to sacrifice one right now, and save the other, rather than having both die a pitiful death of insanity and rage later on.'

'Anything else?' Harry asked to the portrait after a while, not really sure what to make of this last revelation. There was, of course, no way he'd kill Celeste. After all, he just journeyed through two days of hell to save Celeste's life in the first place.

Celeste, for her part, remained pensively silent, contemplating the choices and decisions she would soon have to make.

'No. I think I've covered everything.' Came the reply of the old wizard. 'Perhaps you two should rest awhile. You've been through a great deal lately. Or maybe have a much needed talk in private?'

'Err… Actually, I was hoping that you could let me bring my friends in here, before anything else. They are waiting for me on the shore.' Harry asked, hoping that the painting of Merlin can somehow rein in the strange beasts guarding the castle.

'I presume that you'd want me to lower the defenses around this island?' The portrait asked, not too pleased.

'Yes? Please?' Harry said pleadingly.

'Hmm… My wards are not sensing any other intruders beside you four right now. I guess I can temporarily suspend all the aerial defenses for now. I have no control over the hydra in the lake though.' Merlin said.

'Hydra? As in, only one?'

'Yes, yes. You know all about hydras and their numerous heads, of course?' Merlin said in a tone that clearly indicated that Harry should… or else. Then, more to himself, the portrait added: 'I wonder how many heads it has grown up to now…'

'Err… Anyway, thank you for lowering the wards, sir… Ah! Bloody hell!' Harry suddenly cursed, annoyed at himself for forgetting something very important.

'What's wrong, Harry?' Celeste asked, concerned about the teen despite herself.

'I don't have a broom to fly me back to the shore anymore!' Harry said sulkily. Glancing around, he added: 'Maybe there is one lying somewhere around here?'

'It's ok. I can carry you all.' Celeste suddenly said in a quiet voice. She had initially decided to offer her services thinking that she could have some kind of 'accident' on the way back from the shore, ridding herself of all three witnesses in one swoop. But somehow, after the words left her mouth, she no longer had the heart to carry her plan out.

Harry blinked a few times before understanding what she meant. In all the hectic events and revelations following their landing, he had almost forgotten about her dragon form. _Maybe she's just has a really rare animagus form_, Harry thought without much conviction. _Or maybe she self-transfigured herself into… that. Yeah, that's it! Self-transfiguration. I probably should ask her to teach me this trick sometime. It'd be really useful to be able to transfigure myself to a giant dragon._

'Err… you sure you're up to it?' Harry, asked, concerned with her health once more.

_Why does he have to be so nice to me?_ Celeste thought. _And those two friends of his too. They came all this way to help me, simply because I'm Harry's friend. They wouldn't even be in this mess if it wasn't for me. How can I possibly kill people who saved my own life just to respect some archaic law? This is so confusing…_

'Yes, don't worry about me, Harry.' Celeste replied out loud. Harry found it strange to see a Celeste that was in a constantly pensive mood, as she was normally far more cheerful. Still, he supposed that they've got much to think about lately.

'Ok. Why don't you go first then? I will join you in a short while.' Harry said, trying to give Celeste some privacy for her clothing-unfriendly transformation.

Misinterpreting that Harry couldn't bare to witness the transformation process of her changing into what she truly was, Celeste sadly nodded and walked out.

'So, tell me, Harry, how did it feel?' Merlin asked suddenly, as puzzling as ever.

'How did what feel, sir?' Harry replied politely, feeling as lost as he ever had been in his life.

'Well, the transfer, of course.' Here, the painting leaned down on his frame, appearing very conspiratorial and embarrassed. 'I was told on numerous occasions that it feels as pleasant as, emm, sleeping with a fair maiden… Is that true?'

Harry was truly taken aback to hear such words coming out of the greatest and most respected wizard of all time. After his initial shock, he answered the best he could: 'Err… Well, sir… I wouldn't really know. I have, never, err… you know.'

'Ah.' Was all Merlin said.

'Why? Have you never used the Branch of Souls yourself, sir?' Harry asked, trying to make conversation.

'No, no. I have.' Merlin's portrait replied quickly, looking everywhere but at Harry.

'Ah.' Was all Harry could say, the implications of Merlin's answer very obvious. The two remained in awkward silence for a moment longer.

'Hum. Anyway. Be careful around that creature, young man.' Merlin advised Harry after a while. 'Though her people are usually kind of heart, their customs are very different from ours, and might even force her to do things that she herself wouldn't want to.'

'Creature? You… you mean, Celeste? Are you saying that she truly is not human?' Harry asked shakily. 'That… that… that the dragon I saw was her true form?'

Merlin let out a long sigh, looking at Harry with pity in his eyes. 'Yes, Harry.'

'You're… lying! You have to be! She's just a really powerful witch who can transfigure herself into a giant dragon!'

'Harry!' Merlin bellowed, his tone scolding, though still pitiful. 'Didn't you notice the form of her shadow under the green flame? That flame pierces through any and all disguises, be they magical or otherwise, of any who dares to walk this hall. Their shadows, under the green flame, take on the shape of their true forms. And even you cannot deny that Celeste's true form isn't human.'

'I…' Harry started, but quickly fell silent, recognizing truth when it stared you in the face. Soon, he started to laugh like a madman: 'Hahahahahahaha! I guess I should have seen this coming. Hahahahahaha! Life can never be normal for Harry Potter, can it?' Suddenly, all traces of laughter were gone from his face, to be replaced by an expression born from a heavy, annoyed anger. 'Even the girl I like must be out of the ordinary. You'd think that with matters of the heart, Life would give me a break, and let me have a simple, happy one! But Nooooo! She has to be a dragon! What a joke my life is. I bet it'd make a great novel though, hahahahaha!'

'Harry…' Merlin said in a pitiful tone. 'Do not despair yet. Love across the magical races of Earth isn't as rare as you think, and they usually give birth to the greatest and most enduring couples. I've seen at least…'

'I know, sir. I know…' Harry said sadly, in a resigned voice. 'I even had a friend who's part Veela. Her grandparents must have a great story to tell. I'm just… very confused right now.'

'Ah, it's perfectly understandable. Perhaps you should take the time to think a bit more about this before confronting her.' Merlin advised. 'I am sure she had her reasons. Her kind always does. If it's any consolation, I can see in her eyes that she cares for you as well.'

'Obviously, not enough…' Harry remarked dejectedly, having now lost all the inexplicable resentment he had mere moments ago. 'Well, I'd better go. Celeste's waiting and all…'

And with that, he hurried outside of the castle, where the magnificent silvery dragon was waiting for him, a discarded but mostly intact gray cloak at its feet.

'Isolated village, huh?' Harry remarked with a trace of bitterness as he walked up to Celeste. Looking at the creature before him, Harry quickly decided that Celeste, in her silvery dragon form, was as graceful as she was imposing, the very image of a proud warrior. This was quite a contrast to the cheerful, wide-eyed girl he was used to see, though her ever-present innocence could still be gleamed within her blue eyes. Harry drew a small hint of consolation from that fact. _Perhaps this dragon isn't that different from the girl I liked… Deep down…_ Harry mused, not sure what to think._ Perhaps…_

Suddenly, Celeste spoke up, taking Harry by surprise. For some reason, he didn't think the dragon could speak…

'Well, it was technically an isolated place.' Celeste said, her voice slightly deeper and much louder than before. 'I just didn't mention that it was so isolated from this world that it's not even part of it.' Harry could almost make out a smirk on her draconian features.

'You and I should really sit down and have a long talk once we get back.' Harry said seriously, though not without warmth, looking directly into the dragon's deep, blue eyes, the only similarity he could find between the beast and the girl he somewhat liked.

'Perhaps we should… We'll see.' Celeste said grimly, still unsure if she could actually be heartless enough to carry out her plan of terminating all witnesses to her true form. 'Let's go!'

And with that, Celeste, using her massive jaws, picked Harry up by the collar of his shirt and carefully deposited him on a convenient cavity between two ridges on her back, near her neck.

'Hang on!' Celeste cautioned before taking off with a massive jolt, her wings beating up a small tornado in the castle's courtyard.

_To what?_ Harry absently thought as they streaked toward the shoreline.

* * *

AN: I'm heading into exams soon (very soon). So I might not be able to update for a couple of weeks. Please review in the mean time to motivate me to work on this story once my exams are done. You know, convince me to not go enjoy the care-free summer and the hot sun, and beaches, and ...other things, and update this story instead. 

I'm particularly interested on what you think of this dragon/girl thing and on the length of this fic compared to its content (ie: is it too tedious, ok, very interesting, etc compared to how much reading you have to do), and other things like that.

See you all on the other side! (of the exams)


	12. Interlude: Calm between Tides

AN: I'm so very sorry for the late update. My exams were more trying than I anticipated, and I got sick during exam period too(I was bleeding from the nose due to all the coughing I was trying to contain because otherwise it would hurt my chest muscles during one of the exams...) Anyway, I'm all better now, so here 's the next chappy! Enjoy.

**

* * *

****Chapter Twelve**

**Interlude: Calm between Tides**

Earlier in the day…

'Look! The Clouds are converging on Harry! And those weird shinny birds too!' Ron yelled anxiously to Hermione.

'Ron! I have eyes, I can see for myself, thank you very much!' Hermione replied, unfairly vent her worries on her friend. 'And stop shouting. I'm standing right next to you!' Hermione yelled back.

'Sorry…' Ron conceded, not in the mood to argue. 'It's hard to see well from this distance… Just thought I'd tell you what I can see.'

Hermione and he were both safe and unharmed, with the warm sunlike light still radiating a serene glow upon the shore. However, things were very different above the island in the middle of the waters. As far as they could tell, the clouds were sending generous amounts of lightning upon their famous friend, and appeared to be raining some sort of green liquid upon him as well.

'What's that green…' Ron started to ask, but quickly changed his words in mid sentence to: 'Bloody hell! What is that?'

'It… it looks like a sea serpent… but I've never seen anything as fierce…' Hermione informed Ron absently.

'I can't see Harry anymore! Did he get eaten?' Ron asked, worried.

'Ron! Don't say such… No, wait! He must be all right! Look! The sea serpent seems to have been knocked out!' Hermione exclaimed happily, pointing at the collapsing mile high serpentine body.

'Woah! Way to go Harry.' Ron said, impressed.

Suddenly, the dark, rainy clouds turned into an innocent white once more, and dispersed in the sky. The shinny seabirds soon followed suit.

'Well, I guess this means he made it, somehow.' Hermione stated, not entirely convinced of the fact.

'Yeah. I'm sure he did. Don't worry, Hermione.' Ron padded her gently on the shoulder.

'So now we wait, huh…' Hermione said dejectedly, after a while.

'Do you have anything to eat?' Ron asked, automatically falling back on his favorite pass-time.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

'So, what do you think of this Celeste girl?' Hermione asked after Ron has satiated his hunger.

'She's very pretty.' Ron said reflexively. He then quickly added: 'But I think there is something fishy about her.'

'Ah, so it is not just me who thinks she's hiding something from us then.'

'No. And I think Harry suspects something too. He's not as blind as he appears, you know.' Ron replied thoughtfully. 'Still, he seems fairly attached to her. I suppose he got to know her during the last few weeks.'

'Yes. Though I can't really tell if he likes her as a good friend or if he fancies her. He's not acting like he use to with Cho, but he's not acting like he does with me either.' Mused Hermione, biting her lower lip. 'I also got the impression that whatever this girl is hiding isn't something that would put us in danger. She seems too nice of a person to do something like that.'

'Ok… What's your point?' Ron asked, a bit tired with all the confusing talk about the new girl.

'Well, just trying to figure this Celeste girl out.' Hermione replied with the strangest wishful expression on her face. 'I tried reading her expressions and body language to see how she feels toward Harry, you know. But for some reason, her body gestures are all wrong, and very wild. It's almost as if she has no established pattern of behavior… And her expression is understandably always pretty gloomy.'

'Maybe you just can't read people's body language that well.' Ron replied crossly.

'Maybe…' Hermione admitted pensively, thrusting her hands into her pockets. 'Hey, what's this? Oh, just a washed up ball of paper.' Hermione added, pulling out a vaguely ball shaped mass of dried paper paste out of her pocket.

'What in the heck is that?' Ron asked, having never seen such a thing due to the wizarding world's far more practical cleaning spells used to wash clothes.

'That's just a piece of paper I forgot in my pocket, and then my mum must have washed this sweater with the paper still in it.' Hermione tried to explain, but decided to give up, since Ron probably had no idea how muggles wash their clothes anyway. 'Err… Hey, I just learned this pretty useful Restoration charm for old parchments and the such the other day. It's supposed to be really effective. Let me try it on this.' Hermione said tentatively, having nothing better to do.

And Hermione promptly cast the charm onto the ball of paper. Slowly, the ball unfolded into a neat envelope with a letter inside, which Ron recognized with horror. It was, after all, the 479th draft of his love letter to Hermione. He had completely forgotten that he had given it to her weeks earlier, when they were both depressed about Harry's supposed passing.

'Hey, Ron! This looks like one of your envelopes, no?' Hermione said, ever observant.

'Hmm… yeah! I remember now. I gave you that letter for safekeeping.' Ron said, inventing the semi-credible story in his panic. 'Though I think I will have it back now, Hermione. Since you obviously didn't keep it that safe.'

'Really? But it says _To Hermione_ on the front here. It's in your hand writing too.' Hermione pointed out, having flipped the envelope right-side-up.

'Oh, eh… Well, this must be a different letter then…' Ron replied, giving up.

'Hmm… This is rather thick for a letter from you. What's in it?'

'I… err… forgot. Why don't you read it?' Ron offered, deciding that perhaps this was as good a moment as any to let her find out. 'I will just be sitting over there… to give you some priv…'

He was spared from finishing his awkward sentence by the sudden arrival of a monstrous silvery dragon.

'Oh. My. God.' Hermione yelled out in awe, reflexively storing away the letter she was holding back into her pocket. She and Ron instinctively huddled together, and were just about to draw their wands out when they spotted, to their surprise, a familiar raven-haired teen waving at them from the dragon's back.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The last of the giant armor suits fell before the combined spells of twenty-five French aurors, all clad in heavy battle gear designed to withstand tremendous physical attacks.

'That's the last of them.' Said one of the younger members of team, needlessly.

'Good. Spread out. Sweep the area for any survivors.' Commanded the team leader, a veteran of the Grindelwald wars. 'Perrault! Apparate back to HQ and inform them of our progress. And extend my thanks to the British ministry for informing us of these creeps' weaknesses.'

'Gotcha, boss!' Said the auror named Perrault. He quickly disapparated before his superior could reprimand him for using such informal language.

'Kids these days…' mumbled the team leader. He swept his gaze across the now silent battlefield, a haunted look in his eyes. His team, with their special protective gears, had survived through the battle intact, albeit with a few flesh wounds here and there. But he could clearly see that the normally clad aurors were far worse off, with almost half of their number dead or injured. All in all, their success today felt like a very shallow victory.

_God knows how many of these creepy creatures that bastard can conjure up again this time tomorrow._ Thought the team leader darkly as he strode through the field of mostly enemy corpses. _We will not be able to win this war without some significant reinforcements of our own, that's for sure._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

'Ah, good morning, Dumbledore!' Said Fudge with a somewhat genuine cheerfulness upon seeing the old headmaster. 'Good news came in from the continent over night.'

'Indeed, Cornelius?' Dumbledore greeted, already knowing a bit about the good news, though he had no details.

'Yes, yes. The French and a coalition of forces from other European countries, including two divisions of our best aurors, were able to rout You-Know-Who's army at the Maginot Line.' Fudge said proudly.

'Ah, yes. The Maginot Line.' Dumbledore mused. 'I still find it hard to believe that those French wizards preserved it over all these years. The muggle army never truly understood the extent to which it has been magically enhanced, did they?'

'Well, it was a joint venture between the muggle and magical French ministries at the time, because of muggle wars and the whole Grindelwald fiasco going on back then, as I'm sure you well remember.' Fudge explained eagerly, happy to know something Dumbledore didn't seem to. 'Of course, when that World War III, or was it II, came around, the entire French muggle ministry collapsed.

'After the war, the French muggles completely abandoned those fortifications, forcing the French ministry of magic to take over the entire thing. The French aurors and hit wizards have been maintaining the Line ever since, repairing cracks, reinforcing the magical wards, and even installing some new defensive systems here and there.'

'I presume that those new defenses helped against the Dark Army's advance?' Asked Dumbledore off-handedly, using the now popular nickname for Voldemort's vast and nefarious army.

'Helped? From what I heard, they are probably the only reason why France is still on our side right now.' Fudge replied. 'You-Know-Who apparently wasn't expecting the Maginot Line to have so much magical defenses still in place, and three-quarters of his army got burned to hell before it was able to move close enough to retaliate.'

'I suppose that is one of the drawbacks of having an army that can only move at a crawl at the best of times.' Dumbledore mused. 'Still, Voldemort is, amongst other things, a very brilliant strategist. He would have prepared for the eventuality of losing most of his army like this.'

'Well, I guess we will see. A counter-offensive is already in progress to retake the magical communities You-Know-Who annexed.' Fudge said dismissively. 'I'm so glad he decided to invade Europe. There are far more countries trying to take him down now. I'm sure it will be only a matter of weeks before he's defeated once and for all. By the way, the French auror corps sends their compliments for those very effective tips you gave them.'

'I am glad to hear that the tips helped.' Dumbledore answered, also dismissively. 'I'm more concerned about this counterattack you are planning on Azkaban, Cornelius.'

'How do you know about that?' Fudge asked, a bit miffed. The operation was supposed to be top-secret, after all.

'Might I suggest that we hold our forces back until the situation on the continent becomes more stable?' Dumbledore continued, ignoring Fudge's question. 'The auror forces are spread rather thin at the moment, no? Not to mention we should probably also try to figure out why Voldemort decided to invade Europe, rather than England, first?'

'Your suggestion is duly noted, Dumbledore.' Fudge replied, a now icy tone to his voice. 'However, I am the Minister for Magic here, and I will be the one deciding what I want to do with MY forces. I happen to think that Azkaban must be very weak right now, and that this is the perfect time for a counterblow. Now if you will excuse me…'

'Cornelius! Have you learned nothing from your past mistakes?' Dumbledore bellowed in an incredibly authoritive tone. 'Voldemort is, if nothing else, a very cunning man. I heavily doubt that Azkaban is as easy a target as you seem to presume. I am convinced that you'd be sending many to a meaningless death should you choose to proceed with this ill-designed plan of yours. I urge you to reconsider.'

'Out! Dumbledore!' Fudge cried, red-faced. 'I should have known better than to trust you again, and give you all your positions back! You haven't changed a bit! You still want to order me around like I'm some brainless twit! No more, Dumbledore! No more! I'm through being your puppet! Cornelius Fudge can think for himself! And by this time tomorrow, everyone will see what a clever minister I am! Now out! OUT!'

Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh and strode out of the Minister for Magic's office without another word…

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

'Harry!' Harry Potter heard the familiar voice of his female best friend yelling at him from seemingly five stories down.

'Err… Celeste.' Harry murmured so that only the dragon can hear. 'How am I supposed to get down there?'

In response to his question, the titanic silver dragon swung her head around, and, using her massive jaws, once again picked the Boy-Who-Lived up by the collar of his shirt, and not so gently deposited him in front of his more than shocked friends.

'Woah, Harry! How did you… When did you… what is this?' Hermione settled on asking.

'Hey, Hermione. Ron…' Harry began sheepishly. 'I err… met this dragon in Merlin's castle. She's agreed to help carry all of us to the island, since I don't have a broom anymore.'

'Oh… So it's, um, well-trained?' Ron asked warily, not taking his eyes away from the gigantic dragon for a single instant.

'Yes, she's not going to harm any of us, if that's what you meant, Ron.' Harry replied, angry that Ron used the term _it_ to call Celeste, even though he himself was still unsure how to call her yet. His irritation did not escape Hermione's notice.

'Harry, are you ok? How's Celeste?' Hermione asked, thinking that, perhaps, her friend's anger was related to the mysterious girl.

'Oh! She's healed. She's waiting for us on the island.' Harry lied convincingly, using the rehearsed lines he came up with after having agreed with Celeste that they should probably not divulge her relation to the giant dragon until they return to the island, where she could dress more appropriately for the explanation.

'Ah, that's good to hear!' Hermione replied sincerely. Then, with a meaningful look toward Ron, she asked: 'So, she's all ok? No side-effects or something that needs you to be there to take care of her? And you're all healthy as well?'

'Yeah. We are both a bit weak, but besides that, we're all fine.' Harry replied happily.

He never saw the slap coming.

'Hermione, what the…'

Another slap.

A punch to the guts, this one from his red-haired friend.

Another well aimed punch came soon after.

Celeste watched in confusion as Harry's best friends started beating the daylight out of him. Not really knowing what's going on, and seeing only her one true friend getting beat up by semi-strangers, regardless of their relation to Harry, Celeste decided, for reasons that confused her even more, to protect the teen that her laws required her to kill.

She bared all of her razor sharp teeth, most of which were as tall as Harry himself, and lowered her neck so that her head was positioned directly above Harry. With a great intake of air, she let out a battle cry inborn to her race, with all her fangs poised to strike, and a glowing spark of red-hot flame at the tip of her throat, exposed for all to see. The threat couldn't have been more obvious.

Ron immediately jumped back a few feet, though Hermione stood her ground, casting a calculating look at the giant dragon that seemed very protective of their death-faking friend.

'It's… ok, Ce… Dragon. Don't… hurt them.' Harry managed to choke out between breaths, as his guts were still somewhat bruised.

Celeste gave him a questioning look.

'Don't worry. I… think I know what this is all about. I can handle this on my own. Just give us some privacy… Please. Don't worry about it.' Harry added, looking into the dragon's crystal blue eyes. Hermione also noticed this.

Celeste gave the most threatening look she could muster at Ron and Hermione, and, with a snort, swiftly turned her back on the trio and earthquakingly trampled away, giving the three friends some privacy.

'Alright, Harry.' Started Hermione, her voice forbidding. 'Now that you don't have a dying friend to worry about… Give us one good reason why we shouldn't beat you into a bloody pulp for faking your own death. Did you know how miserable you made us all feel?'

'But… Didn't Remus tell you…'

'Yes, he did.' Ron cut Harry off. 'But my sister and mum didn't know, did they? I had to sit there, every night, listening to them cry their eyes out, knowing I could end their depression with only a few words. But I didn't, Harry. You know why?

'Because I convinced myself that you had a really good reason for doing what you did. And I trusted your judgment, mate. I trusted yours over my own, and hurt my family in the process. So you'd better hope that your explanation right now will be to my satisfaction, or, I swear, I'll make Goyle look like a supermodel next to you!' Ron finished confusingly, crackling his knuckles for emphasis.

'Err… What he meant was that he's going to beat you so bad that your outward appearance will make Goyle look really nice in comparison.' Hermione clarified, standing by Ron's side. 'Not that he's going to give Goyle a makeover or anything like that…'

'Yeah, I understood the first time, Hermione.' Harry replied guiltily.

And then, he launched into the longest explanation ever about how he felt trapped staying at the Dursleys, how he had felt guilty over Sirius's death and had nobody to confide in, how he had wanted to kill himself, but couldn't, because of a **prophecy**, and how he eventually concluded that Dumbledore was more at fault than he was, how he now attributed most of his life's sufferings to Dumbledore and Voldemort, and how he finally decided to escape from the both of them, tired of being a pawn in the deadly game of chess the two powerful wizards played with each other.

During his retelling, the attitude of his friends went from skeptical to worried (about his suicidal thoughts), to shock (about his role in the prophecy), to concern (about the way he was blaming Dumbledore), and finally, to nothing, for they didn't really know how to feel anymore.

A few snorts and gruntings during Harry's account signaled to them that the giant dragon was listening in on the conversation as well, though Harry didn't seem to care.

Finally, Hermione, though fully understanding her friend's anger and saddened by what he had to live through, decided to speak up in defense of her headmaster: 'But Harry! Dumbledore is the greatest wizard there is! There is nobody more trustworthy than him! He constantly fought against evil and dark wizards during his life!'

'Perhaps. But he has a really disgusting way of doing it. And I will no longer abide by it. Whatever role I will play according to the prophecy, it will be the result of my own actions, and not his.'

'Harry… Be reasonable!' Hermione urged on. 'Without Dumbledore's guidance, how can you possibly hope to learn enough to defeat You-Know-Who?'

'Hermione… Be sensible!' Harry echoed. 'You of all people should realize that even with Dumbledore, heck, even if Merlin himself were alive and taught me, it will still take me a life time just to learn all that Voldemort already knows right now. There is no way I will survive that long.'

'But…'

'No _buts_ Hermione. Think about it. I'm not the brightest student there is. I'm not even the second brightest. Plenty of people out there know far more than I do, and still perished at Voldemort's hands. Even Dumbledore had to rely on Fawkes to avoid the Killing Curse back at the ministry. I am very certain that whatever power this prophecy mentioned will not be acquired through learning.'

'Yeah… I… guess you're right, Harry…' Hermione admitted.

'So that's it?' Ron spoke up for the first time after Harry's explanation. He seemed to have finally come to a decision on how to react toward Harry's string of revelations. 'You made my mum and sister suffer through constant heartbreak just because you feel you're too tired of listening to other people telling you what to do?'

'Ron.' Harry started. 'I…'

But Hermione stepped in between him and Ron, deciding that she would probably do a better job explaining things than Harry could.

'Ron! That's not why Harry left, and you know it! Imagine for a moment that your dad died, and straight after, you've been told that it is your life's destiny to fight someone who can kill you without blinking an eye, and to top it all off, you are forced to go live with the Malfoy's for your own safety while the rest of your family were told to not write you anything, thus depriving you of any consolation you might have. How would you feel about that?'

'Hermione… I really don't think that's the same as…'

'Isn't it, Ron? Harry lost Sirius, the only father figure he'd known! And he's been told about the prophecy right after. Then, he was sent to live with a bunch of people who hate his guts, because it is safer for him there. And we were _advised_ to not write to him at all because owls might be intercepted. How is that not the same?'

'Well… I guess if you put it that way…'

'Ron.' Harry decided to add his own two cents. 'I didn't even know that it was Dumbledore who made the final decision of sending me to the Dursley's until end of last year. At the time, I was too sad to think about that fact. But I've finally realized that even then, he was planning for the future. He was trying to protect his weapon the best way he could until that weapon, that is to say, me, is needed again, regardless of how much I had to suffer…

'Eleven years, Ron! Eleven years of constant torment and ridicule, of isolation and abuse when I could have lived almost as securely and far more happily in anonymity with any other muggles! Heck, I'd have taken an orphanage over the Dursley's! But no. Dumbledore decided he can't take that risk, and that my suffering during the best and most innocent years of my life is an acceptable sacrifice for what little extra safety the blood of my relative provided me with in those Voldemort free years.

'How can I not feel manipulated then, Ron? How can I still accept every single order given to me by that old man, knowing what he did to my childhood? And don't even get me started on everything that happened last year…

'So I had to escape. You understand me, don't you?'

'I…' Ron became silent, probably imagining how he would have felt in Harry's situation. 'I guess I do. But I still think faking your own death was a little bit over the top…You should have seen mum! She's lost so much weight because of this! And Ginny! And even Tonks! They were all so miserable back then. They are barely any better now.'

'I… I'm truly sorry for that, Ron… But… If people knew I'm still alive, then they'd try to track me down for sure. And we both know that I'm not nearly talented enough to evade a thorough search by either Dumbledore or Voldemort. I was mostly trying to avoid being found by the latter when I faked my own death.'

'Ron, Harry's right.' Hermione interjected. 'Though I really would have tried to reason with Dumbledore first, Harry. What you did, accepting the suffering of others for the greater good, is no better than what you are accusing Dumbledore of doing.'

'I know, Hermione… I know.' Harry admitted sadly. 'But it would never have come to this had Dumbledore not done what he did… I can barely stand the thought of that man right now. I don't think reasoning with him would have been of any use. I doubt he'd give me a straight talk anyway. He'll probably just deflect my questions with puzzling answers and then store me away at the Dursley's again.'

'Yeah, I guess you're right, mate… But don't ever do that again!' Ron finally conceded. 'And I guess I can't beat you up if I wanted to anyway. You're big friend over there has been giving me the evil eye for quite a while now.' Ron gestured toward the titanic dragon, whose massive head was peaking out from the small hill the dragon tried to conceal herself behind, a poorly feigned expression of innocence on her face.

* * *

AN: Pretty slow chappy for Harry and friends, huh? No worries, Harry and friends will come into their powers soon enough and save the day! Once again, please leave your views, comments, and suggestions (or complaints) in the form of a REVIEW!


	13. Prelude to Disaster

**A/N**: Yes, I'm updating this story because I got tired of modifying what I've already written to suit HBP. This story was written with the mindset of a controlling Dumbledore, and I just can't bring myself to write it differently. Anyhow, I've been itching to progress this story for awhile now, so enjoy! There is a deal offered in the ending notes if you want to read the next chapter as soon as possible.

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all characters from the Harry Potter books are the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. These stories are for pure non-profit personal enjoyment. Only the story plots and original characters are mine.

* * *

Chapter 13

**Prelude to Disaster**

'Must you go?' A worried Alicia Spinnet, currently naked from the torso up, asked her boyfriend of 4 months. They had just woken up from the most intense night they ever had, an intensity fueled mostly by what her boyfriend was about to embark on today.

'Alicia… we've been through this', Lee Jordan replied, staring adoringly at his girlfriend still sprawled on their bed. 'I'm an auror in training. When the ministry gives an order, I have to follow it.'

'But… Why do you have to go? I mean, why can't some of the more senior and more experienced aurors go? This mission sounds awfully dangerous! I mean, who in their right mind would make a 1 month old trainee go and assault a death eater stronghold? This really…' Alicia spurted out, very concerned.

'Hey, don't go telling other people that! I'm not even supposed to know this much!' Lee Jordan chastised. 'Look, the auror corps is being stretched very thin as it is, what with all the trouble on the continent and all. We trainees have to do our part!'

Alicia blinked at him vacantly; her worries not appeased the least by what her boyfriend just said.

'Ok ok', Lee tried again, thinking hard this time on what to say to quell Alicia's fears. 'I'm sure that my superiors wouldn't be sending us on this mission if they didn't feel that we are ready for it! So don't worry, sweetie! This is probably just going to be one of those junior-death-eaters-wannabe amateur gatherings that we are going to break up, that's all.'

Alicia didn't look convinced. 'I have a bad feeling about this, Lee… Why don't you stay here… with me?'

Lee looked fondly at his girlfriend's half naked form, deciding that she was presenting a very solid argument.

'I'm sorry Alicia… But I joined the auror corps because I really do want to fight evil. How would I look if I bail out at the first sign of trouble?' Lee said, strapping on the final piece of his auror gear. He then bent down and gave Alicia the most passionate kiss he could muster.

'Don't worry. I will be back before you know it!' Lee said, preparing to dissaparate. 'Love you!'

'Love you too…' Alicia mumbled belatedly to thin air, Lee having already apparated away.

………………

'My lord!' a bowing Wormtail cowered, for he was about to report news that would anger the dark lord greatly. 'Our army has been routed at the French border. We are being pushed back on all fronts! They have already regained Germany and Austria! And our allies in Poland and Croatia are urgently requesting reinforcements…'

'Hmm… As expected', Voldemort murmured, mostly to himself. 'Very well! Send out that little experiment of mine locked in the west wing cellar! That should keep those pesky aurors distracted until tonight.'

'Yes, my lord', Wormtail replied, his confidence restored after hearing that his esteemed dark lord had expected the bad news, and thus wasn't going to punish him.

'Nott!' Voldemort turned to another of his servants. 'How goes the gathering of those creatures in Romania?'

'Ahead of schedule, my lord', Nott replied with assurance, as, contrary to Wormtail, this was good news he was reporting. 'We have already gathered over one thousand of them.'

'Nicely done, Nott, nicely done indeed', Voldemort praised, for he knew compliments like these would only make more loyal servants. 'Gather as many as you can then, I shall be coming to inspect them personally tonight.'

'Yes my lord', Nott bowed, a strange sensation of fulfillment filling him at the dark lord's words. 'I will not fail you.' Nott added before exiting.

Suddenly sensing a warning from his wards, Voldemort smiled: _So, they are already here. How predictable of them._ Deciding this to be the perfect time to test his fortress' defenses and complete the final modification to his already impregnable stronghold, Voldemort slowly stood from his throne, red eyes blazing.

………………

'This is nuts!' yelled a trainee behind Lee Jordan as he and 200 other auror apprentices of various years, along with two entire battalion of full fledged aurors, flew on ministry issued brooms toward the most ominous citadel on the planet: the dark fortress of Azkaban. Lee had found out that the dark lord's greatest and most fortified bastion was, apparently, the 'death eater stronghold' that his mission was targeting. _Talk about understatement of the century…_ Lee thought grimly.

Special ministry curse breakers was flying ahead of them, disabling wards and countering incoming jinxes as they went. From time to time, one of them would fly back, and warn the aurors about a particularly powerful ward that the curse breakers couldn't disable.

And the massive squadron flew on, sweeping through the outer defenses of the castle with impressive efficiency.

Behind them, a seventy years old muggle aircraft-carrier stood firmly anchored in the perpetually stormy waters, two of the most prominent figures in wizarding Britain looking on at the squadron with apprehension. The vessel had been raised from the bottom of the ocean by special ministry task forces to serve as a staging platform for the assault of Azkaban. All in all, unlike most ministry undertakings, a great deal of planning had gone into this mission.

'I still don't see why you need to be here, Dumbledore', Fudge couldn't help but spit out after a long period where neither of them spoke. Despite his verbal protests, Fudge was secretly glad to have Dumbledore by his side on this dangerous mission. Nevertheless, Fudge decided to add: 'Couldn't stand the thought of me getting all the credit of this mission, could you?'

'My dear Cornelius, I have no doubt that illusions of grandeur is the reason of your presence here tonight, at the forefront of this assault.' Dumbledore replied, calm as ever. 'But I am here for a far less selfish purpose. I am here… to prevent a massacre. Such a defeat of our forces would be most devastating on the morale of the people, and in the interest of the war effort, as well as the lives of all those aurors you just sent out, I shall avail my powers to cover your retreat, when it comes.'

'Are you implying that we will lose?' Fudge said, indignant.

'I have already warned you to not underestimate Voldemort, Cornelius, hoping that you would call off this foolish assault', Dumbledore replied in a tone that made Fudge shrink in his seat. 'However, you are the Minister of Magic, and I do not have the authority to stop you from going ahead with this perilous operation. The only recourse of action left to me is to be here, and salvage what I can of the situation when Voldemort inevitably turns the table on you.'

'Why you…' Fudge was spared the effort of coming up with a suitable retort against Dumbledore when one of his aids came over.

'Minister. Our forces are approaching the island proper. They report having encountered only minor resistance and no losses so far.'

'Thank you, Percy.' Fudge replied importantly. 'Keep me informed of their progress. I want that prison back under ministry control by tonight!'

'Yes, Minister. Right away!' Percy replied enthusiastically, running back toward the auror commanders in charge of the actual operation.

………………

'Are you sure this is safe?' Hermione asked worriedly from behind Harry, her arms firmly wrapped around a steadier Ron for anchoring. All three friends were riding atop the monstrous silver dragon, heading back toward Merlin's island.

'Yeah! It's fine! Nothing to worry about! Trust me!' Harry yelled back in a confident voice, hoping to reassure the flying-phobic Hermione. Though he was far from feeling so assured himself, as Celeste was flying far more erratically than she had on her way over. She had, in fact, almost flipped over upside-down a couple of times.

'Are you feeling ok, Celeste?' Harry murmured to the great beast, mistakenly thinking that her near-fatal flight pattern was caused by relapses in her still recovering body.

Celeste, on her part, was struggling mightily with herself: should she obey her ancestral decrees and cast these people, who have all seen her true form, down into the acid and hydra infested waters below? Or should she violate the age old law, rumored to have been delivered onto her people by the Makers themselves, in order to spare the three teens who had risked their lives to save hers?

Despite having tried, several times, to roll over (and thus damn Harry and co. to a fatal meeting with the hydra), Celeste found herself stopping, unable to carry through, the thought of a falling Harry looking up with confusion into her eyes and yelling 'why?' overwhelming her sense of duty each and every time.

The concerned and oblivious voice of Harry asking her about her health was the last straw for Celeste. Deciding to leave the matter to rest for now, Celeste readily steadied her flight and bore Harry and friends onto the mid-lake island, safe and sound.

'Err… you guys go ahead', Harry told his best friends nervously, after he, Ron and Hermione have been 'disembarked' by Celeste from her back. Harry was hoping to talk to Celeste a bit before confronting his friends. 'I need to… put the dragon back into the stable, so to speak. Yeah.'

'Ok, we will see you inside then!' Hermione replied quickly, dragging Ron by the arm and heading quickly toward the castle.

'Huh… She probably can't wait to talk to Merlin's portrait.' Harry murmured, gazing fondly at the retreating back of his two best friends. Once they are out of sight, he turned his attention upon the gigantic wyrm, who had been patiently waiting on him, a look of apprehension in her eyes.

'Well… Err…' Harry still felt a bit uneasy addressing Celeste in her current form. There was, after all, a big difference between talking to a sweet girl that you've come to know and a giant, six story tall fire breathing dragon which you have to crane your neck back just to stare in the eye. Thinking that it might be a bit more comfortable to talk to Celeste in her human form, Harry said: 'Could you change back to your normal form? I'll leave my grey cloak here… Let me know when you're done.' And with that, Harry turned his back on her, trying to give her some privacy.

Celeste, misinterpreting Harry's actions once more as him finding the sight of her transformation unbearable, felt oddly hurt. _Why does he affect me like that?_ The silvery dragon thought, not for the first time, as she shimmered down into her human form, carelessly putting on Harry's cloak. _He has every right to be disgusted at me… I'll eventually kill him and his friends for helping me, after all…_

'Ready to head in?' Harry said as he half-turned around to peek at Celeste. The girl swore she could detect a glint of disappointment in Harry's eyes at seeing her fully covered.

'Yes Harry… Let's.'

And with that, the odd pair strode toward the castle entrance, Celeste silently dreading the conversation to come.

………………

'Ahhhhh!' The dying scream of an auror trainee was heard behind Lee Jordan as the auror strike force edged on, encountering far heavier resistance as they approached the once island-prison. Many jets of purple light were now shooting out from the fortress, grazing many aurors and hitting one dead on every once in a while.

'Heads up, rookies!' a senior auror yelled out in front of Lee's group. 'Artillery is passing overhead.'

Lee looked up just in time to see five gigantic chunks of glowing rock streaking past toward the dark citadel, the enchantments added to the normal pieces of stone helping the titanic projectiles break through all of the castle's magical barriers and enchantments. Several purple beams were fired at the colossal boulders, with very little effect.

The five, mansion sized stones impacted spectacularly against Azkaban's towers and turrets, creating a cloud of smoke and flying pebbles that briefly engulfed the entire castle from sight. Lee was just about to cry out in triumph when the dust and smoke magically cleared up, revealing an undamaged Azkaban and another onslaught of purple beams heading their way.

'Alright boys! Time for plan B!' shouted the same senior auror as he charged down toward the forbidding fortress. Plan B was pretty simple: In the event that the magical bombardment failed to destroy Azkaban, the auror strike force, initially acting as a simple decoy to distract the defenders from the deadly boulders, would now try to take control of the stronghold by battling the defenders wand-to-wand.

'This is suicide…' Lee murmured in resignation and charged into the fray.

………………

'So… you're telling me that you are the dragon we saw earlier?' Ron yelled incredulously, his right index finger rudely pointed less than an inch away from Celeste's face.

Meanwhile, Hermione was grilling Harry about the life-force link: '… so rash. You didn't even know if it was going to work! And now your life is tied with hers forever! And we don't even know that much about her! What if her race was evil and all that!'

Celeste and Harry have just finished retelling the story of their initial and perilous flight onto the island to an increasingly wide-eyed Ron and a nodding Hermione. Their reactions were pretty much what Harry had expected.

'Hey mate!' Ron suddenly slapped Harry's back in a hard, manly gesture. 'At least you're set in the girlfriend department, no? You did say that the link would end up making you love each other, right? And you already liked her even before all this, no? So your future is set!' Ron stated in a very cheerful tone, entirely ignoring the other possible outcome of the link, or the fact that Harry's new 'girlfriend' was, in her true form, a six story high winged reptilian monster.

Hermione, remembering the consequences of Harry's life-force link to Celeste, and realizing that she was bad mouthing what would most likely be Harry's future wife (as she didn't wish Harry to go insane and die, of course), immediately became more diplomatic: 'I just really wish you could have been honest with us from the beginning, Celeste. We were, after all, trying to save your life.'

'I'm sorry I didn't inform you earlier' Celeste apologized, her eyes downcast. 'My true form is not something that I parade about.'

'We understand.' Hermione replied, finally comprehending why this girl's body language was so odd. 'So what are you, really? I mean… I don't mean to be rude, and you don't have to answer, but I'm just curious as to what kind of being you are, you know. You're at least three times as big as any of the dragons we've seen!' Spurted Hermione in a hurried jumble, her curiosity getting the better of her.

'Err…' Celeste began, not sure if she should answer the girl's question and reveal even more about herself and her people than she already had. Fortunately, Merlin's Portrait chose this instant to speak up.

'Perhaps this question can be answered another time, young Ms. Granger. For the time is late, and I'm not wrong in assuming that all of you are in need of some much needed rest, no?' Merlin asked, though his tone made it very clear that he didn't mean it as a question.

'Yes, I suppose.' Hermione answered, disappointed about not being able to learn more. 'We'll talk more about this tomorrow then, Celeste.'

Harry felt strangely upset at Hermione's attitude. He didn't appreciate Hermione treating Celeste like some novel study subject very much, even though he had the very same questions burning at the back of his mind.

'Excellent!' Merlin clapped his hands together in his portrait frame. 'I've lowered the lighting outside to reflect night time. There are many small rooms lining this hall and a few up in the turrets. They may be a bit crowded with all the artifacts my living counterpart stored in them, but I think one to each room should still be ok. Have your pick!'

………………

That night, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Celeste all slept in separate rooms, Ron having chosen to sleep in a room full of gold coins, saying that this was probably his only chance of realizing one of his childhood dreams of sleeping on a mountain of gold. Hermione, Harry, and Celeste simply picked rooms at random.

Harry stayed awake long into the night, partially wondering about Celeste's true nature, and partially disturbed by this odd sensation of wanting to kill himself… and then Hermione and Ron. He found this thought rather strange, for, even though the idea of suicide wasn't knew to him, he had never felt like killing his best friends, especially not after he killed himself.

_What utter non-sense is my brain thinking? Can't even plan a murder-suicide in the correct order._ Harry thought jokingly, wondering if he was going insane with all that's happened to him lately. He closed his eyes in dejection. _Best stick with more pleasant thoughts, like Celeste. I wonder if what Merlin said is true…that I'd end up either killing her, or marrying her because of our link…_

Harry allowed himself a small smile at the thought of marrying the enchanting girl. Had he been less distracted by those wandering thoughts, he might have made the connection between his murderous intentions toward himself and his friends, and the sharing of thoughts between him and Celeste. As it is, he was simply contemplating if he truly liked the girl.

_Well, she is very kind-hearted, that much I can tell_, Harry thought dreamily. _And she doesn't know about my story, so she has no pre-formulated opinion of me because of my fame, which is another good thing. _

_She has this indescribable grace about her, and her naive, untainted opinions about the things in our world are truly refreshing_,Harry listed mentally._ She's also funny and silly in a very innocent and cute kind of way. But she has a quiet confidence about her and would definitely fight hard for what she believes in_. _She can cheer me up in an instant with her childish and yet insightful comments, and she always comes up with the weirdest and most enjoyable ideas to pass the time. She's very pretty too! How can I not like this girl?_

_Wait, girl? Haha, what am I saying? She's not a girl… She's a beast! A giant dragon!_ Harry silently laughed a maniacal laugh of despair at his hopelessly complicated love life.

_And yet, you like her, don't you?_ A small voice at the back of his head told Harry.

_No! Never! She's a dragon! A beast! I can't like a… a…a creature in that way! That just feels… wrong!_ Harry's logical voice retorted.

_Why not? There are many examples of love between humans and other magical beings all around you. _The little voice insisted. _Think about Hagrid's parents, and Fleur's grandparents! And what about Remus? He's a werewolf, you know. Does that mean you do not wish to see him find love and eventually settle down with a family of his own?_

_Of course I do!_ Harry's logical side mentally cried indignantly. _I wish all the best for Remus! He deserves it far more than a lot of people out there._

_Ah ha!_ The little voice shouted in triumph._ So then what is wrong with you loving Celeste? Wouldn't you be the same as the one who'd eventually end up with Remus? You will both be in love with a magical being, and to hell with what other people think!_

_Yeah! To hell with it! Celeste is Celeste. _Harry thought enthusiastically. _I fell for her before I knew what she is. But no matter what form she's in, she still has the same gentle and merry mind I fell in love with! Wait… love? Yeah… Love. I do. I love Celeste!_ Harry concluded happily, just before a sharp pain pierced through the left side of his chest. Harry let out a cry of pain and instinctively sat up, opening his eyes. To his surprise, a pair of crystal blue orbs greeted his own emerald ones.

'You… love me?' A teary-eyed Celeste questioned him, hope and regret clearly visible within her sapphire shaded eyes.

Harry forgot for an instant about the pain in his chest, and smiled warmly at the object of his affection. He tried to nod his head, but the pain in his chest immediately assailed his senses once more. He reflexively looked down, and to his horror saw a dagger partially buried into his chest, the handle of which was still held by a ghostly white hand.

Harry's gaze slowly traveled up the murderous hand, and then the arm to which it was attached, to eventually look into the cerulean eyes of his would-be killer.

'Why?' Harry asked in a deeply hurt voice, feeling betrayed in the worst way possible.

'I… have to.' Celeste replied, sounding truly sorry.

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A/N**: Please **REVIEW**! Takes a minute and makes the next update come waaaay faster! Tell you what? I'll publish the next chapter as soon as the review count for this story gets to 104, how's that for a deal? 

I can tell you right now that the next chapter is entitled: Celeste's Tale, where she reveals everything!

I'd especially appreciate comments from any readers who might have read both versions of this story: which one is better? Should I stick to a preHBP frameset? Or adjust my story for postHBP? Otherwise, what do you guys think of Celeste so far? Is she believeable as a character?


	14. Celeste's Tale

**A/N**: Thanks for all the reviews! Kudos go to bellatrixvssirius, who I'm not sure how, but reviewed chapter 13 less than 2 minutes after I published it. So I really thank you for your enthusiasm!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the worst casting decision ever for Cho Chang judging by the new GoF trailer, which I do not own either. I certainly also do not own the sorry excuse for a movie that was PoA, but would have liked to own the first two movies, which I don't. I only own the plot to this fic, and any original characters within. Finally, I do not make any profit out of this, though I wish I did, cuz then I can go buy some alcohol to help me get through the after-effects from when I watched PoA.

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* * *

Chapter 14 **

**Celeste's Tale**

Harry's gaze slowly traveled up the murderous hand, and then the arm to which it was attached, to eventually look into the cerulean eyes of his would-be killer.

'Why?' Harry asked in a deeply hurt voice, feeling betrayed in the worst way possible.

'I… have to.' Celeste replied, sounding truly sorry.

_Does this mean…_ Harry thought foggily through the pain in his chest. _She must have concluded that she can't love me no matter what, and that eventually she and I would both go insane and suicidal from our life-force link… So that's why she wants to kill me now… To save herself!_ Harry concluded, feeling truly betrayed. He had, after all, just realized that he loved her. And to have the one you love wishing you dead…

'Do it then…' Harry said dejectedly, not wanting to live in such a cruel world anymore. If even someone like Celeste could be so selfish and heartless… He decided to close his eyes for the event, as he felt disgusted at the entire world at that instant, and couldn't bare the sight of anything part of it any longer. Especially not HER.

After a while of eerie silence and no action on Celeste's part, Harry slowly opened his eyes again. Celeste was looking at him with the saddest and most loving gaze he had ever seen, teardrops silently streaking down her porcelain cheeks in a steady stream.

It was only then that Harry realized the dagger was buried no more than skin deep into his chest, and that the only reason why it was still lodged there at all was because Celeste was still holding on to it.

'Celeste what is…' Harry tried to ask, now more confused than angry.

'Shut up!' Celeste yelled with desperation, shocking Harry into silence. He had never seen her say such a thing, much less saying it in such an outburst. Then again, he had never seen her so distraught either. 'I have to do it, Harry. It is against the law of my people to let any who had seen my true form live. I… I'm really sorry…'

In a way, Harry felt very relieved at hearing that she wants to kill him not because she didn't love him, but because she seemed to be forced to by some strange laws. For that would mean that she was not doing this out of a selfish need of self-preservation. Harry found this fact comforting to know, and his respect and love for Celeste was somewhat restored.

However, his happiness was very short-lived, as Harry could feel renewed pressure from the dagger lodged in his chest, though the pressure was minimal at best. He was still trying to formulate a plan out of this situation when Celeste suddenly cried out in anguish.

'Argh! I can't do this!' Celeste shouted between sobs. Then, abruptly looking up, as if talking to the stars, Celeste said in an almost pleading tone: 'I can't! I'm sorry, father, mother. I can't do it. I've failed you. I've failed our people! I cannot bring myself to obey one of our most sacred laws… I can't kill him. He's been so kind to me, and even saved my life. And I… I think I…'

But what Celeste thought, Harry wasn't able to hear, for she had collapsed into a fit of silent sobs, her head hung low in shame. Eventually, Celeste looked up again, though not a Harry, who was, by this point, far more concerned for Celeste than for his own safety. For it seemed as if she was not going to kill him after all.

'I'm so weak, father, mother. I know I must be such a disappointment to you…' Celeste mumbled, certainly not to Harry. 'I failed you. I failed our laws. I… I don't deserve to live anymore!'

And with a fluid and unexpected gesture, Celeste swiftly pulled the dagger out of Harry's chest (causing Harry to momentarily black out from the pain) and promptly brought the blade to her own throat.

'Farewell, world.' Celeste said dispassionately, and made to slice the dagger across her delicate neck.

Harry knew he'd never be able to get a hold of her dagger wielding arm in time, but desperately dove for it anyway, clenching his teeth at the pain from his chest, all thoughts of the still bleeding wound Celeste had inflicted upon him discarded without a grudge at the prospect of forever losing the companion he had come to cherish in the past three weeks.

Time seemed to pass very slowly for Harry, as if the whole world had slowed down for this momentous event. His mind was working in overdrive, the sight of Celeste about to take her own life fueling overwhelming waves of panic and despair into his senses.

_Celeste… Will I never see you smile again? _Harry thought erratically as his body plunged toward said girl, his mind flashing through the brief period he had known her._ Will I be forever denied the joy of holding your hand once more as you explore the world with your innocent enthusiasm?_

As Harry remembered all the wonderful experiences he had had with her whilst they explored London, small, endearing details about Celeste that he had taken for granted now came unbidden to the forefront of his mind, showing him a side of her he had never paid much attention to, but now realized that he couldn't afford to live without: _To never again witness her eyes lit up at the taste of ice cream, or have her hit me on the head and tell me off for being so moody about my fate…_Harry thought grimly._ To never see her pout in mock anger when I make fun of her clumsiness, or having to drag her away from staring at the simplest things in the world…To never hear her laugh again, or enjoy the sweet melody of her voice… To never again have the chance to get lost in those mesmerizing sapphire eyes…Is this the life that awaits me?_

Harry could now see a thin, faint line of liquid red on Celeste's otherwise swan-white neck, the dagger having already cut through her skin.

_Merlin! Do not let it end this way!_ Harry prayed with all his will. _There's still so many things I want to tell her, so much of the world I still want to experience with her…I can't lose her now… _And in quieter mental voice: _Not when I finally realized that I love her…_

'Halt!' Cried out portrait-Merlin, appearing into a small painting of a pig farm hung within the room, a commanding magic in his voice. Harry felt his whole body go stiff, and became suspended in mid-air, halfway through his great dive toward Celeste, who still had the knife against her throat. Slowly, as if against her will, the dagger was forced away from her.

'I believe you called me?' portrait-Merlin said conversationally to Harry.

And then, the whole scene unfroze.

Harry promptly fell onto Celeste, forcing them both onto the ground, and easily pinning her dagger holding hand away from them both.

'Listen to me, young lady.' Merlin's voice urged as Harry struggled against Celeste, who was trying to push him off of her so that she may at least kill herself.

'Listen!' Merlin commanded again, this time using magic to back his words. Celeste and Harry immediately stopped struggling and gave the portrait of Merlin their undivided attention. 'Young lady, I'm well aware of your people and their laws. And that is why you should believe me when I tell you that you have not broken any of your laws by letting young Mr. Potter here live, despite him knowing about your true form.'

'Really?' Celeste asked hopefully from underneath Harry (who was still lying on top of her). 'But how is that possible? There is but one law more sacred to us than our law of secrecy.'

'Yes, I know', Merlin said with the usual know-it-all-old-man tone. 'And that is the law which you would have disobeyed, had you killed Mr. Potter. In other words, by letting Mr. Potter live, you are merely respecting the most sacred law of your people, which, if memory serves, overrules all other laws that your people might have, no?'

Harry was now getting extremely confused with all this talk about sacred laws and mysterious people. 'What are you guys talking about? What are these laws?' He asked, looking back and forth between Merlin's portrait and the girl pinned under him for an answer.

When it became obvious that Celeste would not speak up, Merlin decided to end Harry's ignorance: 'Harry. Celeste, as you may have guessed by now, is not from this world. Her people, due to their history, have a very sacred law that they value above all else. The law dictates that never, will any member of her people ever interfere in the natural progression of our world's affairs. Of course, this law was meant for the grander scheme of things, and thus whenever a member of her race walked this Earth, they were permitted to eliminate any witness to their true forms, for tales about giant dragons was deemed more disruptive to our world's affairs than the death of a few faceless wizards or muggles.'

Harry looked at Celeste for confirmation about these seemingly cruel and unjust judgments of a person's worth. She nodded ever so slightly.

'But you Harry', Merlin continued. 'You are one of the pinnacles of good in the magical world. Your words and actions can sway hundreds of thousands of people. And you are part of a prophecy that would shape the very future of our race. Your death would no doubt have a huge impact on the affairs of this world, especially those of the wizarding world. Thus, to kill you would definitely be considered interference in our world's natural progression, and thus be against their most sacred law.'

Beneath him, Harry heard Celeste let out a deep sigh of relief. Harry could almost tell that she had been dying to find any sort of excuse to not kill him.

'Our young lady here', Merlin gestured toward Celeste as best as he could from his two dimensional vantage point. 'Did not know about your life story, and was greatly torn between thanking you properly for the kindness you've shown her, or following her people's second most important decree, which demands that she terminates all witnesses to her true form. I believe she eventually decided to go against the commandments of her people and spare your life, as she does care for you a great deal. But as you just saw, she also couldn't bare the thought of disobeying the laws of her community, and wanted to kill herself instead as punishment.'

'Ah…' Harry exclaimed, touched by Celeste's self-sacrificing intentions. He could only stare down in wonder at the dragon/girl, who would defy the will of her own people to spare him, someone she had only known for three weeks. Combined with Merlin's explanations about why she tried to kill him in the first place, all lingering resentment Harry had about her stabbing him was instantly swept away from his mind, replaced by what Harry deemed to be a far more important issue: Does that mean Celeste had feelings for him too? Celeste, though, was determinedly avoiding his questioning gaze, ashamed by what she almost did.

Too late did Harry realize that not only was he in a very compromising position (he was, after all, lying entirely on top of her), but that Celeste was still only clad in the grey cloak he had given her earlier.

And of course, that was when Ron and Hermione decided to burst into the room, wands drawn, apparently alerted by all the raucous coming from his room.

'Harry…' Ron was the first to recover from the sight, and gave his friend an incredulous but approving look.

Hermione was far less understanding: 'Harry! What in Merlin's name are you doing to her?'

'Hermione. Listen to me. This isn't what it looks like!' Harry tried desperately to explain. Of course, his credibility at denying Hermione's tacit accusations seemed somewhat non-existent with his present body position.

Realizing this, Harry quickly got up, turning a deep shade of red as he did so.

'What happened to you, mate?' Ron asked, noticing Harry's chest wound. Hermione also gasped in horror.

'Err…' Harry hesitated, not sure if he should tell his friends the truth.

'It was me…' Celeste admitted, walking over to examine Harry's wound, a mix of concern and regret etched across her face. She still didn't dare to look at Harry in the eye. 'I did this… I tried to stab him through the heart.'

'You did what?' Hermione shouted, alarmed. Pointing her wand at Celeste, she added: 'Get away from him!'

'It's ok Hermione. Celeste is not…' Harry tried to explain. A flash of blue light arcing out from Celeste's twirling fingers onto his still bleeding wound cut him off.

'Stupefy!' Hermione shouted reflexively, spooked by Celeste's action on Harry. Celeste promptly collapsed against the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry clenched his teeth to brace for the wave of pain that Celeste's impact against his wound would cause. But after his new found love was securely resting in his arms and still no pain what so ever came from the knife wound, Harry tentatively examined his chest, only to find that his wound had been healed, without leaving even the trace of a scar behind.

'Wow! She actually healed you with wandless magic', Ron observed.

'Actually… I saw her fingers moving in a strange pattern just before she cast her spell', Hermione corrected, now calmer and able to think more logically. 'But why would she want to heal you though? She did say she was the one who stabbed you in the first place, right?'

'Just a second, Hermione' Harry parried, examining Celeste's neck with delicate care. Retrieving his wand, Harry muttered a quick healing charm against the thin cut near her throat.

'Who did that to her?' Ron asked.

'She did', Harry answered. Seeing that his healing charm did its job, he nodded in satisfaction and turned his gaze toward his questioning friends. 'She couldn't go through with killing me, felt too guilty and all. So she tried to kill herself instead.'

'Err… I'm getting really confused now…' Ron stated, scratching his head. Hermione simply cocked an eyebrow, as if to say: maybe you should start from the beginning.

'Yeah, I guess I better start from the beginning…' Harry agreed. 'Let me sit down though, Celeste's not as light as she look.'

'Here, let me revive her', Hermione offered.

'No. Let her rest for a while', Harry argued, seeing the peaceful expression that Celeste now wore. 'She just barely recovered from her injuries today.'

'You've got it bad, Harry', Ron remarked as the trio sat down on the stone floor, Celeste cradled in Harry's arms.

And so, Harry explained to his two best friends everything that happened during the night, including Merlin's intervention and the strange rules of Celeste's people.

'This is such a strange story, mate!' Ron exclaimed after Harry finished with the explanations. 'First, the girl turns out to be a giant dragon, then she stabs you in your sleep, intent on killing you, and then she can't go through with it, so decides to kill herself instead, and now it all turned out to be a big misunderstanding?'

'Well, I wouldn't call it a misunderstanding', Harry replied, a slight grin forming on his face at his best friend's antics. 'More like a huge incident for nothing.'

'But what about us? Me and Ron, that is?' Hermione asked suddenly, as Harry and Ron weren't known for their perspicacity. 'We've seen her true form, and we are not nearly as important as you, Harry. Does that mean she will kill us?'

'Good question', Harry admitted, tensing up at this. For what Hermione asked was, indeed, of great concern. 'Let's ask her.'

'I thought you wanted to let her rest…' Hermione trailed off as Harry cast the 'Ennervate' spell on Celeste.

'Yeah, but I'm not about to turn a blind eye toward anyone who might want to hurt my best friends', Harry responded firmly.

When Celeste had come to enough to make sense of the world again, the first thing she did was to examine Harry's chest wound, and let out a sigh of relief at finding her spell had worked properly. The second thing she did was to get as far away from the trio as physically possible in the small side room, feeling too ashamed by what she almost did to stand with the three generous teen.

'I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry to all of you.' Celeste mumbled tearfully, head hung low. 'You risked your lives to save me, and I repay you by trying to kill you. I don't deserve to be in your presence.'

Harry, knowing all too well how guilty emotions can make a person sink into lengthy depressions, quickly went over to her. Holding Celeste by her shoulders, Harry assured her that he understood her situation completely, and that he held no resentment toward her for it whatsoever. Seeing the still uncertain look in her eyes, Harry decided to give her a very meaningful look, hoping that his true emotions shined through enough to convince her that his forgiveness was genuinely sincere.

Celeste appeared to be mollified by Harry's last gesture, but still didn't dare to look at Hermione or Ron, as she wasn't sure how they felt about her now. Harry, a bit oblivious, proceeded to update her on what she missed out, and finally made Hermione's (and his and Ron's) latest concern known to her.

'No. I will not', Celeste replied with conviction, at last daring to look directly at Hermione and Ron. 'You are both important to Harry, and that, in my opinion, makes you're important enough to the progression of your world.'

'Isn't this a horrible standard though?' Hermione asked. 'I mean, if we are not important, you'd simply kill us, and only the famous people would be spared. Isn't that kind of elitist?'

Celeste sighed. 'Yes... It probably is. But the law is the law. It has spared your world from the knowledge of our existence so far, no?'

'But why? Why so much secrecy? Just what exactly are your people trying to hide?' Hermione insisted. 'Are you going to invade our world? Is that why?'

Harry and Ron, who were doing quite a lot of 'man-talk' on the side, perked up at this, for this seemed like a distinct possibility. Seeing the distrustful gaze that Harry now sported, Celeste felt a cold gust of panic suddenly seizing her body. The looks he had furtively cast at her up to now gave her hope that he might still care for her in the way she thought she heard him say right before she stabbed him. And she certainly didn't feel like losing his trust now, when she can interact with him without feeling any kind of guilt or dilemma over some ancient laws.

'No, no. Hermione. You misunderstand.' Celeste began. Then, turning to address Harry more than anyone else, Celeste said: 'If you wish, I will explain everything to you. But you'll have to swear upon all that you hold dear in this world to never reveal what I'm about to say to anyone else.'

'But what if you tell us something that might help out against Voldemort? Or that might endanger people we know?' Hermione insisted. 'We can't stand by and do nothing in that case.'

'I promise you that my story will contain nothing of that sort' Celeste replied firmly. Harry could tell that Hermione was starting to test Celeste's generous patience, but since he himself had the same concerns, he decided to stay silent.

'Would a Wizard Oath do then?' Hermione asked. 'We can put all these conditions and promises into it.'

Seeing the blank look on Celeste, and also Harry and Ron's faces, she added: 'A Wizard Oath uses magic to punish those who dare to break the oath, usually resulting in the death of the breaker. It is not something to get into lightly. But we can put all sorts of conditions on the Oath, like making it only valid if what Celeste promised are true, and that sort of stuff.'

'That would be sufficient.' Celeste consented.

After Harry and friends all swore to keep her story a secret under the ritual of a Wizard Oath (supervised by Merlin's portrait, no less), Celeste began solemnly:

'What I'm about to tell you is a tale of great nobility, and of grave sadness. It is a story of dignified loyalty, and of horrendous betrayal. It started right here, on this world, but has passed far beyond the memories of your people. Yet, we remember it as if it was yesterday, and many of us still grieve in shame over what happened.'

_I hope she gets to the point soon_, thought Ron, stifling a yawn. _These ominous introductions get kind of boring after a while…_

'As you may have come to guess, many worlds exist outside your own. And…'

'Wait, you mean the planets? Like how there are other inhabited worlds in the Universe?' Hermione cut Celeste off.

'No', Celeste replied. 'When I say your world, I actually meant your entire Universe. It is hard to explain… Imagine, for a moment, that there are many Universes, each governed by its own laws and principles, and that this Universe is but one of them.'

Hermione eagerly nodded. A few science-fiction stories flashing past her mind.

'So, many worlds exist outside of this one. But this one is special. The Makers of the worlds gave this land the freedom of choice that all the other realms did not have.'

'What do you mean by freedom of choice?' Harry decided to speak up. 'Choice of what?'

'That choice', Celeste said soberly, 'is the choice between good and evil. In all the other worlds, beings born to them are inherently good or inherently evil, and would not switch allegiance in this matter throughout their entire life. Thus, many worlds are of pure evil, and others of absolute good. The Makers foresaw…'

'Who are these makers you keep mentioning?' Hermione asked, ever inquisitive. 'And what does all this have to do with your people?'

'Patience, Hermione.' Merlin admonished from the pig farm portrait, surprising everyone. They had forgotten that he was still there. 'This story stretches across many ages, and to truly understand the plight of Celeste's people, you will have to listen to it from the beginning.'

'How do you know so much of our story, master Merlin?' Celeste half-asked, as she half-knew the answer already.

'Can't you guess, young lady? I learned it from another of your kind, who walked this earth long before you. In fact, I think he is your own father, if I'm not mistaken in your heritage.' Merlin replied with a kind smile. 'But it is perhaps best if you continue with your story for now.'

'Yes, of course.' Celeste said, seeing the impatient look on Hermione's face. 'The Makers are… what you would call gods. They created all of the worlds we are aware of, thus we call them the Makers. Beyond that, we do not know anything for certain.

'As I was saying, the Makers foresaw that great conflicts will one day arise between the worlds of evil and those of the good. So when they sowed the seeds of good and evil upon the worlds they built, they took great care in fostering a balance of sorts between the two conflicting ideologies.

'This equilibrium is not one of idleness, but rather one of chaos. Wars are waged between good and evil across countless realms, some conflicts having lasted far beyond the oldest memories of even our people. Many worlds on both sides are conquered and lost each day. But in the grand scheme of things, the two sides will forever fight to a stand still, one never gaining a decisive advantage over the other.

'Really?' Ron perked up. 'I find that hard to understand… If the good guys conquer a world, let's say, won't they have more resources and stuff, and thus will be even stronger?'

'That is partially true, Ron. But you're forgetting that all of the worlds, with the notable exception of this one, have a predetermined stance between good and evil. In your example, even though the light side conquered a world of evil, they cannot use it to strengthen their numbers, for only being of evil can be born there, and it is, in fact, a drain on the light side's resources to hold onto such a land.'

'Ah… I see.' Ron said happily, thinking that he finally understood something.

'But as I have already mentioned, this world is different.' Celeste continued. 'The Makers, perhaps on a whim of curiosity, or perhaps torn by their own diverging ideologies, decided to build a world devoid of their influence, free to choose its own destiny. They wanted to see which, between good and evil, would eventually triumph when untainted beings are left to evolve on their own.

'So, any being born on this world has the freedom to choose its own destiny. And because of that, this world is a prized target for both sides of the eternal conflict. For it would be easy to tip the chaotically swinging scale of power in favor of whomever can get a hold of this world, as the beings born to it can be swayed to fight for either good or evil.'

'But if that was true, how come we never hear of any invasions by those from these other worlds that you spoke of?' Hermione asked. 'Surely, our history would have recorded of such things?'

'Very true.' Celeste admitted. 'And that is where my people, the Great Dragons of the Grey Realm, come in. We were created by the Makers to protect this world from any and all who would dare to cease it to further their own ends. For eons, we roamed this land, defending it against the other realms, fighting off demons and divine beings alike who dared to trespass into this domain. And we prided ourselves of never failing in our task.

'Wow… so you can fight off the combined powers of good and evil?' Ron asked, incredulous.

'Not exactly. The light side generally let us be, and only the most fanatic of their leaders would ever think of forcing their will upon us for the _greater good_ of things. We've been challenged far more times by the forces of evil, and even then, they usually could not muster a sizeable force against us without the light side getting wind of it, and countering it for balance's sake, before it had the chance to strike at us.

'Time went by, and for an age, all was well with this world. And soon, my people came upon the first of the sentient beings destined to master this land. We became curious of them, for their language and customs were very different from our own, and yet, they were almost as intelligent as us. Eventually, their nobility and fair principles grew on us, and a great alliance was forged. Some of our number even took up residence amongst them, fascinated by their unmatched talents in all arts and crafts of the world.

'Who, exactly, are these people you're talking about?' Ron asked a bit impatiently, which earned him a glare from Hermione.

'Sorry, Ron. Those people were long gone before your race was born.' Celeste apologized. 'I'm not sure your language even has a name for them.'

'Elves', Merlin suddenly said from his position on the wall. 'It was the elves. Not the house elves that you and I know, but true elves, fair and tall, that many legends spoke of… I've concluded that much from what Celeste's father told me.'

'Those elves? They are for real?' Harry asked Celeste, a bit unbelieving.

'Apparently so.' Celeste answered him, an innocent smile in her eyes at his wide-eyed expression. 'But they have long vanished from this world, and their extinction was partially our fault.

'Though the alliance between our two people had great benefits, it also created something terrible. When the Makers got wind of it, they were furious. For what was created was most certainly not part of their design for this world. In their anger and sadness, the Makers cursed the elves, twisting them into hideous and pride-less creatures designed to compensate for the abnormality that our creation had introduced into the world.

'Those creatures, the opposite pinnacle of what the elves held dearest to their hearts, were damned to eons of humiliating suffering and savage rampage… Not a day goes by where the elders of our people didn't lament about the elves' horrendous fate… A fate in which we were equally to blame (or so I was told).

'But to us, the Makers did nothing. They merely stated to us that they were disappointed in us, and left.'

'What? You got off so easily? And what was this creation you guys made? And what are these creatures that the elves became? Are they still around?' Hermione was now firing on all cylinders, apparently suffering from information overload.

'Even I do not know about this crime, Hermione, for the elders of our people are too ashamed of it to even speak of the crime amongst themselves.' Celeste answered, incidentally ignoring all her other questions. 'After the Makers left, our leaders decided that we should still punish ourselves for the fate we brought upon the elves, and also to take drastic measures to avoid a repeat of the tragedy. Thus, we went into self-exile, swearing to never again interfere in the affairs of the world that we were charged to protect.'

'Ah. So that's where your most sacred law came from.' Ron stated unnecessarily.

'Yes. And as the ages flew by, we found that we cannot be in total exile from this world if we hope to protect it fully against the other realms. Thus, from time to time, when the need was dire, some of my people temporarily returned to this land, only to leave again once the threat was dealt with. Eventually, it was decided that we would walk on this earth in disguise, and carry out our tasks in as much secrecy as we can manage.

'And so we did for countless generations, and eventually, the inhabitants of this world had all but forgotten us. Our leaders decided that this ignorance was for the best, and thus created another of our most sacred laws, which stems directly from the first: leave no witnesses to our existence so as to not affect the affairs of this world.'

'Hmm… I think I understand now.' Hermione murmured softly. 'So you're saying that your people's task is to protect, even isolate, this world from all outside influence, but you don't really care what happens within this world, so long as there are no outside people trying to invade it or influence it?'

'That is correct.' Celeste admitted calmly. 'We were, after all, created for that very purpose.'

'I see…' Hermione trailed off, but immediately came up with another question: 'So, I guess you are here to do something related to our protection from an outside influence?'

'Yes', Celeste replied. And then, deciding that it would do little harm to tell them about her task, she added: 'Ten years ago, there was a great battle between my people and a sizeable force commanded by one of the most powerful demon princes. When the demon prince was finally defeated, we could not find its spiritual essence anywhere on the battlefield. That fact in itself was already very troublesome, for with its essence intact, the demon prince can take on a new body and rise again to challenge us. So we tried to chase it down, traveling across the foulest worlds of evil, in hope of stopping the essence before it could take on a new body.'

'However, many years passed, with no news of the demon prince, spirit or otherwise. Too late did we discover that the essence of the demon prince had been, in fact, absorbed by another essence… one that came from, and went back to, the world we were born to protect.'

'Voldemort!' Harry hissed the name, conviction in his voice.

Celeste nodded. 'We suspect as well. If that is the case, then we, the great dragons, shall take care of him. For if Voldemort does indeed possess the near-bottomless well of knowledge of a demon prince, then he would be capable of summoning and fashioning horrendous, otherworldly beasts to aid his cause, at the very least. And that, already, is outside interference at its worst.'

'Then we must stop him before he can do so!' Harry said determinedly, balling up his fists in emphasis. Ron and Hermione both nodded in ascent, an equally determined look on their faces. 'Wait, what am I saying? I have to take him out no matter what he does!'

'Hahahaha! Please! You little twerps stand zero chance against a dark lord of Voldemort's power!' The genie mocked, having suddenly popped in through the wall. 'I heard everything, and let me tell you right now that you're way in over your head on this.'

'Why you!' Ron raged, but not really sure how to lash out against a misty creature who can pass through solid walls. Ron was still fuming when the genie suddenly started to act as if he was being choked, with his misty body eventually fading into thin air.

'Ha! I knew he was hiding his bottle behind the wall.' Hermione said triumphantly, coming back into Harry's room, a capped beer bottle in hand. 'Now he's stuck in there until we release him again.'

'Hmm… He does have a point though', Harry admitted. 'We are no match against Voldemort, should we truly go on a toe-to-toe fight against him. And no amount of training on our part would help us…'

'Why not?' Ron asked stubbornly. 'We can hide here, and train for as long as it takes! Hell, we've even got a portrait of Merlin to help us out!'

'True, we could definitely gain a lot of power by training here.' Harry said. 'And I think I will indeed stay here and train for a while. But Ron, you're forgetting that when we train, Voldemort is training too. He's not the kind of evil wizard that'd sit idle and wait until someone catches up to him in magical prowess. He'd be training himself hard as well, so that he's always far ahead of any potential threat he might face.'

At these sobering words, the trio sank into silence, each contemplating about their future and the inevitable confrontation that they'd have to face. Celeste approached Harry without a word, and laid a hand on his shoulder in tacit support.

'Might I suggest that you all go back to rest for now', portrait-Merlin offered after a while. 'We can discuss all of this in far greater detail tomorrow, when your heads had the time to process all that was said today.'

'But master Merlin…' Hermione began, unwilling to leave this important issue unsettled.

'Rest, child', Merlin cut her off, a hand up as if to ward off any further tirades. 'I have many suggestions to make myself concerning your situation, for I am well aware of your plight. But it would do you little good if you're not awake enough to understand them.'

Harry shot quick glances at Hermione and Ron, and with a nod, decided to heed Merlin's advice. Ron and Hermione silently exited his room, mumbling weak 'good night's as they did so, their minds obviously still occupied by thoughts of the conflict to come.

Celeste hung back. She wanted to speak to Harry alone.

'Yes, I kind of wanted to talk to you too.' Harry agreed verbally, gathering all the courage he could muster about him. After seeing Celeste nearly die in front of his eyes tonight, Harry decided to confess his feelings for her as soon as he could, for he did not want to leave things unsaid between them. His own life expectancy was getting too short for that.

He hesitantly smiled at Celeste, who was simply giving him a 'how did you know what I was thinking?' look.

'I think our link is getting stronger', Harry replied, tapping his head for emphasis. 'You've heard some of my thoughts earlier too, did you not?'

Celeste could only nod, for the thought she had heard from him earlier was his mental admission of love for her; an admission that was glimpsed by her just in time to stay her murderous hand from fully burying that dagger through Harry's heart.

'Yeah, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.' Harry admitted, once again picking up on Celeste's thinking. He then turned to Merlin, giving the portrait a half-pleading, half-demanding look.

'Alright, alright. I will leave. Just don't sleep too late.' Merlin advised as the portrait left the two teen alone, unsupervised, in a small, unlit room.

………………

'Do you still feel that way?' Was the first question that Celeste asked after the two stood in awkward silence for what seemed like hours. She had, after all, tried to kill him earlier.

'Yeah. Even more so now. The prospect of losing you made me realize many things…' Harry replied earnestly. He was still a bit unsure about how he felt toward Celeste-the-dragon, her true form, but he knew without doubt that he loved Celeste-the-girl.

'I see. I guess I'd be confused if I were you as well.' Celeste said, having caught the gist of Harry's mental dilemma.

'Celeste… I do love you. It's just that… your dragon form… It might take me a while to get use to it… that is all.' Taking a deep breath, Harry decided to come clean on that subject: 'I guess what I'm trying to say is that I might not be as physically attracted to you in your dragon form compared to the physical attraction I feel for you right now. But besides that, all other aspects of my love for you, which is the greater part of it, would remain the same no matter what form or shape you take.'

'That is very reasonable', Celeste said neutrally, not sure how to take Harry's confession. 'I'm glad you are being so honest with me.'

'So… Err… How do you feel about that? Do you…' Harry trailed off, not daring to ask if Celeste loved him back or not. He had, after all, just pretty much told her that he didn't find her true form all that attractive.

'It's ok Harry, don't worry about it.' Celeste assured him, reading his mind. She had finally come to a stance on Harry's admission from earlier. 'I would be worried about your sexual stability had you felt otherwise about my dragon form.'

Harry let out a sigh of relief, for he could tell that Celeste was being sincere about it.

'And I don't know if I love you or not', Celeste added truthfully. 'Because I'm not even sure what love is… The concept is foreign to me.'

_Well, at least she's being totally honest with me_, Harry thought, a bit disappointed.

'Though I do know that, I find a lot of things about you to be most endearing to me', Celeste continued, a far away look in her eyes, as if contemplating her own thoughts and actions in regard to Harry. 'When I'm around you, I feel happier, and I feel sadder when you're not around. Back when we were in London, I'd look forward to the time we meet up, and feel lonely every time you left me on my doorstep.

'I care about you, and want to do my best to see you smile and laugh. And each time you seemed sad or down, I'd feel miserable too. I'd want to cheer you up, or at least, to share your pain, so that I can lessen it for you.

'When we went through the traps to get here, my heart always felt as if it stopped beating whenever you tried to brave your way through danger. I sometimes wished that I had died, so that you won't put yourself in danger anymore… Yes… I think that, I'd gladly die, if it means that you'd be safe.'

_And you almost did…_ Harry thought, recalling how Celeste wanted to take her own life rather than obeying her people's laws and kill him.

'Anyway, that's how I feel about you. Is that love?' Celeste finished by asking, staring questioningly at Harry with her wide, innocent blue eyes.

'Yes, it is.' Harry said, staring back at Celeste and leaning closer.

'How can you be so sure?' Celeste replied, still confused about what was going on between herself and Harry, her feelings toward him being entirely foreign, though strangely pleasant, to her mind.

'Because that's exactly how I feel about you.' Harry breathed, closing the final distance, encouraged that Celeste hadn't leaned away.

'Harry, what are you…' _doing?_ Celeste couldn't get the last word out, as her lips were now covered by Harry's. But Harry did hear her thoughts, and was about to pull back when Celeste finally understood what he was doing, and reciprocated the kiss, pulling him even closer.

They stood like that for a long while, merely holding each other in their arms, neither daring to move, lest they break the magic of the moment. Their kiss was of the simplest kind there was, chaste but passionate; and somehow, that made the moment even more special. Unbeknownst to the kissing couple, a shimmering aura briefly surrounded them both, sealing their link through the life-force forever.

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A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews! Please keep them coming, and any kind of criticism are most welcome. If you feel that there are too many grammar errors in this story, feel free to volunteer as my beta… god knows I need one. 

Please **REVIEW**! Takes only 1 minute, and makes the next update come sooner! I promise!

Remember! More Reviews equals Faster updates! How about I post the next chapter as soon as the review count for this story hits 120?

I'd especially like to know your opinions on how the romance between Harry and Celeste are going so far? Does it seem too forced? Unnatural? Almost implausible? Or too little, and not passionate enough? Or just right and you can totally see how it could happen?Also, what did you guys think of Celeste's story? Did you see that coming? Did you find it interesting? Or kinda same old same old? Please let me know!


	15. Merlin's Stash

**A/N**: Well… First, thank you all for all those who reviewed. We didn't get to the targeted number of reviews though… This is kinda disappointing, especially when I see quite a few people adding this to their favorites/alerts. But I'm posting this new chapter anyway, since I had it written down when I posted Chapter 14. However, I haven't even started on Chapter 16 yet, and I'll probably need some determined convincing to continue this story at a quick pace…

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Chapter 15 **

**Merlin's Stash**

Lee landed alongside the other aurors into the hauntingly quietitude of Azkaban's inner courtyard, not a death eater in sight. The aurors, especially the trainees, all glanced around them with nervous suspicion, as a purposely unguarded fortress was definitely not a good sign when it came to Voldemort.

'Split into your assault teams, and advance toward the interior!' Commanded the lead auror. 'Remember, two curse breakers per team! Search for any death eat…'

'No need, my dear auror captain!' came an all too familiar voice above them. 'I dare say that you've already found me!'

Instinctively, all the aurors present looked up. There, midway atop the highest spire in Azkaban, stood non other than the Dark Lord Voldemort…all alone. Many aurors shuttered at the sight of the dark wizard, and some of the trainees even fled in panic, deciding that whatever punishment they might face from the ministry would be far better than what the dark lord had in store for them.

'Take him down!' shouted the lead auror, his wand already aimed at Voldemort. A thousand wands followed suit, all shouting the strongest hex they could think of. Some Unforgiveables could clearly be heard amidst the cacophony of spells being cast.

'Please', Voldemort said dismissively, having simply apparated away from the spells' path, and to a point no less than 20 feet from the aurors. 'I'm letting you all live, and this is how you thank me?'

And as he spoke, the wands of every single auror spontaneously combusted. Some of the more experienced aurors hastily tried to retrieve their spare wand, which they carried hidden within the folds of their robe, as those were engulfed in flames too.

'Retreat!' The lead auror yelled, appalled that his entire command had been disarmed so easily. The aurors made to mount their brooms, only to find those had been burned to ashes as well.

'Hahahaha! You aurors can be very amusing when you want to.' Voldemort said pleasantly, almost in a human-like tone. 'I must insist that you accept the offerings of my humble hospitality, for the reminder of your life.'

And with those words, black coils of decayed roots sprung from the aurors feet, ensnaring each and every one of them into immobility.

'Wards of my own creation', explained the dark lord conversationally. 'I was amazed at how many things are made out of wood in the magical world. So I created this little flaming ward to take care of all your wands. And of course, what castle's defenses would be complete without some way to trap intruders en mass?'

'Don't think you've won so easily, Voldemort! Others will come!' the lead auror shouted valiantly, in a vain attempt at salvaging some sense of dignity from the aurors' utter defeat.

'Surely, you must have realized that it is suicide to confront me in my stronghold, where my magic is at its strongest', Voldemort hissed after a brief period of the patented and insane dark lord cackling. 'Are you suggesting that your minister will be foolish enough to send another wave of aurors to their death here? Then again, he did send you guys, didn't he?'

Some grumbles against Fudge's stupidity could be heard amongst the auror crowd. Nobody liked Fudge.

'You may be wondering why I've left you alive…' Voldemort paced back and forth in front of the entire group of aurors, which now looked more like a small garden forest of dead trees rather than the elite fighting force that they had been two minutes ago. 'The answer is simple! I need you!'

Some of the aurors tried to spat a caustic remark or two at the dark lord's antics, only to find that a silencing charm had been cast on them.

'Yes! I need you!' Voldemort continued, as if trying to convince a crowd of undecided voters, rather than bitter enemies who wanted him dead. 'For you see, I find myself in lack of healthy and able subjects for a few experiments of mine, and (here, the dark lord gestured to some of the muggleborn witches amongst the auror corps with a sickening smile) my men are in need of female companionship as well.'

Only then did most of the aurors notice the massive circle of death eaters that have surrounded them.

'But I'm not an unreasonable man', Voldemort continued, oblivious to the horrified looks that some of the female aurors were now sporting. 'I shall give you a choice: the pure-blooded amongst you will be given the chance to join my death eater ranks first, with some conditions attached, of course.'

'But first, I believe that a little demonstration of my power is in order, since my previous demonstration of invulnerability to your puny bombardment didn't deter you from landing here…' Voldemort finally retrieved his wand from his robes, and, with a wave, rendered the castle walls around the courtyard as transparent as the ceiling of Hogwarts' great hall.

'My dear death eaters', clamored the Dark Lord, now addressing his loyal servants. 'The time has come for us to embark on our journey, where we shall rid the world of all mudbloods, and rule this earth as its rightful kings! Remember this day, my friends, for today, a new empire is born!' And with a rather fancy flourish of his wand, Voldemort dropped to one knee, and struck the very ground of Azkaban fortress with his wand, sending tendrils of glowing blue magic across his stronghold.

And then the ground started to shake.

………………

'Yes, sir. We were forced back. You-Know-Who was there! The rest of them didn't make it.' Stuttered a very nervous looking auror trainee. He and the dozen or so trainees who fled from the island before Voldemort had ensnared the entire auror contingent were now standing in front of a suspicious head auror of Britain, an agitated Minister Fudge, and a calm but scolding looking Dumbledore.

'Are you sure you were forced back?' The head auror questioned, disbelief dripping from his words. 'Are you sure you didn't flee in fear because you happen to simply see Voldemort?'

Fudge and the trainees visibly shuttered at the name.

'N-No, sir!' The trainee tried to argue, though he knew that he was fighting a losing battle.

'Why don't I believe you, you miserable excu…'

'Minister! Minister! Come quick! Something is happening to Azkaban!' the frantic and insistent voice of Percy Weasley cut the head auror's tirade off.

'What is it now?' The head auror said, annoyed at being interrupted. He, Fudge, and Dumbledore promptly went onto the deck of the muggle aircraft carrier, trying to see for themselves what Percy had meant.

'Oh… My… God…' Was all the head auror could say, though he was, up until now, a devout atheist.

Far on the horizon, against a setting sun, the massive, unmistakable silhouette of the dark fortress of Azkaban slowly rose into the sky, eerie, bleak flares of light starting to collect along its many high turrets and towers. The entire castle rested atop a titanic mass of solid rock, which looked roughly like an upside down cone, with jagged edges and protruding weapons decorating all its flanks.

'A… A flying fortress…' Fudge murmured.

Only Dumbledore kept enough senses to notice that the flares of light gathering on the castle turrets appeared to have reached a critical mass. Pondering what this could mean, he barely had time to raise a massive shield around the aircraft carrier before those masses of light exploded into focalized beams. In the blink of an eye, they were already pounding relentlessly on Dumbledore's weakening shield.

'I cannot keep this up forever', Dumbledore said, a bit strained. 'I suggest you tell your men to reverse whatever spell is keeping this vessel afloat. Our best hope is to dive under the sea, and hope that the waters would be barrier enough against these very powerful beams. My shield should be sufficient to keep the waters at bay for a while. And without the constant strain of these beams, I should be able to keep it up long enough for us to come up with an alternative plan of escape.'

The head auror nodded solemnly, and promptly ran off to instruct his people. Fudge and Percy simply watched on in morbid fascination as the beams of light pummeled into Dumbledore's shield in a spectacular clash of might and magic.

…………………

'Harry, wake up!' Came the insistent voice of Ron from outside of Harry's room, accompanied by periodic loud bangs on the door. 'Hermione says breakfast is ready, and she's not letting me anywhere near it until you guys get there! So hurry up!'

'huh? Wha? Oh. Yeah, give me a sec, Ron', Harry replied half-consciously, with only one eye barely open. He tried to get up, but felt an unexpected weight on his left shoulder.

_Oh, that's right! Celeste…_ Harry recalled. After they had broken from their first kiss, they had simply held on protectively to the other, conversing from time to time through their mental link about inconsequential things. Eventually, they had drifted to sleep in each other's arms, content to simply be near the one they loved.

As he recalled all this, Harry fondly looked upon the still sleeping girl, who had moved her head to rest on his shoulder during the night, and who's left hand was still placed over his heart, covering the now healed knife wound that she herself had stabbed onto him… with that very same hand.

_The world can really be ironic sometimes_, Harry thought. Then, in as gentle a voice as he can manage, Harry tried to coax Celeste into getting up.

'Huh…? Harry?' Celeste asked sleepily, propping herself up and accidentally giving Harry a _very_ generous view of herself, as she was still only clad in his grey cloak.

'Harry… what's going on? …Harry? HARRY!' Celeste insisted, puzzled by her new love's vacant look. Having never needed to wear clothes until recently, Celeste did not immediately make the connection between her exposed body and Harry's lethargic condition. 'Are you feeling alright?' She asked with concern, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, which only served to shift her garment around and expose more of herself to the Boy-Who-Lived.

Ironically, seeing even more of Celeste actually managed to awaken the sense of gentlemanly shame within Harry, and he shook himself out of his reveries.

'Err… Ron just came by', Harry said shakily, trying to keep his eyes locked with Celeste's, and not look down her body. 'He says breakfast is ready.'

'Great! Let's go then!' Celeste said, standing up energetically, seemingly back to her old, innocent self.

Harry barely heard her. When she had stood up so suddenly, Celeste's barely covered chest jiggled in the most sensual way Harry had ever seen, and his mental capacities, on their own volition, were now fully dedicated toward imprinting that sight permanently into his already overtaxed brain.

All in all, it was a very black morning for Harry's so far spotless record against dirty thoughts.

'Hum… Celeste.' Harry began, glancing around for something Celeste could wear, not sure at all why he was even doing this. Interestingly, Harry suddenly noticed a white, medieval dress with some simple gold linings that he swore could not have been there before. _This castle must be like a giant Room of Requirement…_

'Here, Celeste. Why don't you put this on?' Harry said, offering the simple dress to Celeste, who was looking at him with a pair of smiling and curious eyes.

'Why?'

'Err… I think I like you better in it.' Harry said honestly, thinking that it was probably for the best that she was covered in a dress rather than half-covered by his grey cloak. Celeste misinterpreted his words, thinking that Harry thought she'd look better in the dress, so gladly went along.

……………

Harry and Celeste arrived in the main hall of the castle hand in hand, obliviously smiling at each other in a manner only newly formed couples could. As they entered, Harry came upon the strangest sight he'd ever seen: Hermione was maniacally swallowing her breakfast, one whole egg at a time, whilst Ron looked on in mild disgust.

'Took you guys long enough!' Ron said as he disinterestedly bit into a piece of bread, courtesy of Merlin's castle and its ever-lasting charms.

'No talking!' Hermione snapped, giving Ron a dirty look before returning to devour her food with a zeal that Harry thought only Ron could match.

'Merlin refused to talk to her until we've all fed ourselves', Ron whispered conspiratorially to Harry and Celeste, leaning close to them. 'So now she won't even talk to me, saying that'd make the eating go faster.'

'While Hermione has…' Harry began, but a glare and shush from the girl in question quickly shut him up.

And so the group ate in silence, surprisingly with Ron finishing last.

'What? Food is meant to be enjoyed, guys. It may not look it, but I actually do savor all the food I eat… I don't just swallow them whole.' Ron finished, giving Hermione a mock revolted look.

'Humph', Hermione dismissed. 'Well, err… Merlin sir, could you tell us now on what you think of our situation with Voldemort?'

'Yes, I might as well…' portrait-Merlin started. 'First of all, I think what young Harry said last night was very true: You cannot hope to defeat this new Dark Lord you're facing through any kind of normal training.'

'Not even if you trained us, sir?' Hermione asked.

'No, I'm afraid not. There is only so much that a portrait can do', Merlin stated sadly. 'However, I do suggest that you still train with me for a while. I do possess almost all of the knowledge of my living counterpart, and I dare say that you all stand to become much wiser should you even be able to retain a tiny fraction of the magic that I am willing to impart to you.'

'But do you have any idea of how we can actually stand against Voldemort? And possibly even defeat him once and for all?' Harry asked.

'Hmm… even I do not know how this dark lord of yours survived a Killing curse, so I cannot say for certain how you might permanently eradicate him.' Merlin admitted. 'However, I daresay that there exist several magical artifacts that might help you gain the upper hand in any encounter you might have with him.'

'Really? Why didn't you say so earlier?' Ron exclaimed, forgetting who he was talking to. 'Where can we find these magical artifacts?'

'Finding them is the least of your worries.' portrait-Merlin admonished gravely. 'The real issue is whether you are worthy enough to wield them. Many dignified wizards far greater than you have tried, and failed…'

Ron gulped at this. 'Well, it won't hurt for us to try, right?' He asked tentatively.

'I suppose not…' Merlin gave in, amazed at how simple, almost childish thoughts could sometimes make the most sense. 'Come with me…' Merlin gestured for them to follow him… into his portrait!

'Err… are you suggesting that…' But Ron's hesitation was cut short when an unseen force propelled him straight toward the giant portrait of Merlin. He promptly vanished on contact. And as if invisible brushes were painting at a maddening pace, Ron was drawn, bit by bit, onto the portrait.

'Ron!' Hermione yelled, a bit of worry seeping into her voice. She promptly lunged at the painting, and soon materialized on it as well.

Giving a 'whatever' shrug to Celeste, Harry followed suit. Celeste was the last to join them.

'Ah, jolly good!' Merlin said happily. Harry can't see him at all, seeing as how he's currently a two dimensional painting resting on a flat surface. All he could see was the hall from which he had just jumped into the portrait from, and murky darkness in the only other viewable direction available to him.

'Now everyone grab onto someone's hand, and I shall lead you to our destination, don't worry.' The voice of Merlin was heard over Harry's confused thoughts. Harry desperately reached out to grab onto anything. His hand eventually came in contact with something very soft… _and squishy_, Harry thought, feeling the thing up in his hand. A familiar intake of breath finally made Harry realize just what it was he was squishing… and who he was accidentally fondling.

Harry promptly drew back his hand, as if scorched. He also wisely decided to remain silent, lest Hermione realize that he was the one who felt her up. Eventually, another pair of hands found him (Celeste's, he recognized) and he soon found himself drawn toward some unseen location.

…………………

'How dare you feel me up, you pervert!' was the first thing Harry heard as he stumbled out of a portrait. Harry was just about to get up and apologize as best as he can when…

'I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't know what I was touching until I heard you gasp.' The mumbled apology of Ron came, music to Harry's ears. Harry saw that his friend's ears were now redder than his hair, and silently felt sorry for him.

'I… Just… urgh! Don't touch my breasts ever again!' Hermione said with her most threatening voice, and promptly stormed off… to the other side of the room.

'Ron, did you…' Harry trailed off, not sure what to say. Was it possible that he and Ron both committed the same accident, at the same time?

'Yeah… I… touched one of her… you know… by accident.' Ron confessed to Harry in a very low voice. 'You suppose I should go give her a better apology?'

Harry could only nod, and Ron promptly went after Hermione. It would seem that he would be able to get away with it after all. Not that he was at fault in the first place.

'What are you thinking!' Came Celeste's low but stern voice, accompanied by a harsh slap to Harry's head. Harry looked at her in confusion.

Celeste simply tapped her own head, reminding him of their link. 'At least it was an accident. So I guess that slap was sufficient punishment... this time.'

'Where are we, Merlin sir?' Hermione asked, still trying to brush off a sorry looking Ron.

'This, young lady, is where I store the most powerful and deadliest artifacts I had come across while I was alive… Every single item you see in this room can bring utter ruin to the world, should they fall into the wrong hands', Merlin said gravely. 'This room is extremely well protected, and only reachable through my portrait. I advise you to not touch anything in here without my permission.'

All four youths nodded vigorously.

'Well then. Step over here. Let's see which artifacts you're worthy enough to wield.' Merlin gestured from a different portrait than the one they came in, having traveled through a series of blank paintings on the wall that seemed to serve the sole purpose of allowing the portrait to walk around the room.

'Behold!' Merlin said with a huge dramatic gesture. 'The Sword of the Brotherhood!' portrait Merlin pointed at a single, gigantic translucent blue sword that looked as tall as Hermione, and probably as heavy too.

All four youths stood there, motionless, a blank look of utter ignorance on their faces. When it became clear that no explanations were forthcoming, the youths cast confused looks at each other, hoping that perhaps, one of them might know more what Merlin just introduced.

'You don't know what the Brotherhood is!' Merlin said, as if Harry and friends just told him that the Sun was now rising from the West.

'Err… no?' Hermione offered valiantly.

After letting out a most disappointed sigh, the portrait of Merlin said: 'Well, I suppose that these things get lost in time… Go on, just try to lift the sword. If you're worthy enough, it will feel light as a feather to you.'

One after the other, the four youths tried to lift the sword from its perch. Only Ron seemed to have any success in moving the sword at all, though the movement would need a microscope to be seen.

'Hmm… Let's try something else', Merlin said, undaunted. 'Let me think… You need items that are powerful enough to defeat a Dark Lord… hmm… Ah, how about this: the Jewel of Eternity? This would let you manipulate time at will, giving you ample buffer to dodge incoming spells, and so on. You can even go back and change the past, if you have enough magical power to do so. Go ahead, put it on! Should you be deemed worthy as the jewel's next master, you will instantly be taken to the beginning of time and talk with this annoyingly know-it-all old man.'

Predictably, none of Harry and friends were deemed responsible enough to wield power over time itself.

'Moving on…' Merlin said, still undaunted by their failures so far.

…………………

'I give up…' portrait Merlin said, sinking into a chair in his current painting.

'Surely, sir, there must be something else we can try. I mean, you're Merlin, after all.' Hermione said, desperation in her voice. She had always believed in the power of the wise, and Merlin was deemed by all to be the wisest wizard that ever lived. If even he didn't know of any power that could help them against Voldemort…

'We've tried everything that's powerful enough for your needs', Merlin replied, still sounding defeated. 'But I'm afraid that you are just not worthy enough for any of them… There are other powerful items in this room, of course. But such items generally tend to overpower the weaker wizards, and take over the wizard's mind, using his or her body to further the item's own agenda rather than the other way around. I doubt any of you would survive such an encounter.'

'I see…' Hermione said, also sounding dejected now.

'What are those?' Ron said suddenly, inexplicably drawn toward three, pendant sized crystals. The crystals seemed to radiate with an internal light, each of a different color, and had many jagged and sharp edges, as if broken off from a larger piece. Beyond that, they didn't seem particularly special.

'Ah, those. They are called the Crystal Shards', Merlin said offhandedly. 'They aren't really crystals, of course. I never did figure out what they are made of. But they look like crystals, and people thus gave them that name. Nobody knows where these things came from… their existence, as far as I can tell, seem to predate our race. Perhaps they are crafted by those elves that Celeste mentioned to you, or perhaps they fell onto our world from the stars and beyond… It is hard to tell.

'They seem to be pieces of something…' Ron trailed off, still gazing at the crystals.

'Yes, obviously. As you can probably see, they are broken shards of a much larger whole…' Merlin retorted. Then, in a more pensive mood, he added: 'And that is very troubling, considering the amount of power that one such tiny shard can wield. To the best of my knowledge, there are four such shards on this world. Unfortunately, I've only been able to find and collect these three, the fourth shard having long passed into the far east of our world, where I never journeyed to.'

'Um… what do they do, exactly?' Ron asked, never having been a big fan of history lessons.

'The depth of these crystals' power was never fully grasped by my living counterpart.' Merlin began after giving Ron a somewhat contemptuous stare. 'I do know that each of the crystal shards is attuned to one of the four elements that our ancestors thought the world was made of. Depending on how compatible you are at wielding the shard's powers, your own magic can be magnified several folds, at the very least. If legends are to be believed, these crystals can even grant to its wielder dominion over the entirety of the element it is attuned to, allowing their wielders to summon creatures basked in the crystal's element to his or her aid. Of course, nothing like that ever happened near my own lifetime, so I cannot confirm nor deny these rumors.'

'Can these things give us the upper hand against Voldemort?' Ron asked, his hands itching to touch the crystals.

'Assuming that you can actually wield all three crystals with great mastery, then yes. That, and a good amount of training with me', portrait-Merlin stated matter-of-factly, without the slightest hint of egotism in his voice. 'The crystals have a tendency to accept new masters at crucial times in our history, be they good or evil. Go ahead, touch them, nothing would be lost by trying. Do not hold them in your hand though, because they are of the more dangerous variety of artifacts I mentioned earlier… They should light up if you've got any potential at mastering their power. The brighter the glow, the better you'd be able to wiel…'

But for thee second day in a row, Merlin's portrait was interrupted by a bright light, shimmering him into silence. When the fiery, orange light dimmed, all present was shocked to see an even more shocked Ron, a finger touching one of the crystal shards.

'Well… I would never have guessed…' Merlin scoffed, a bit surprised that the seemingly incompetent redhead was able to provoke such a strong reaction from the crystal. 'That is the Fire Shard, young Mr. Weasley. I must say that I'm surprised that it reacted so strongly to you. Perhaps you're not as hopeless as I thought… Go ahead, pick it up. Judging by the intensity of that light, I daresay that it is safe for you to hold the crystal in your hands… for now.'

'Well, I think I can guess what you'll be most compatible with, Hermione', Harry remarked, gesturing toward the blue hued Water Shard.

And indeed, Hermione's touch provoked an equally bright blue flash of light from the crystal in question.

'I guess the last one's yours then, Harry.' Hermione said, holding onto her shard protectively.

'Is this the Air Shard?' Harry asked, not sure what to make of the fully transparent crystal devoid of any color.

'Yes. The Earth Shard was the one I couldn't find…' Merlin trailed off, seeing Harry was about to touch the crystal.

A small puff of silvery glow emanated from the shard at Harry's touch, not nearly as bright as the other two flashes.

'Huh?' Ron exclaimed. 'That can't be right, mate. You're the strongest of all of us. Touch it again! Maybe there was some dust or something that didn't let you make a good contact.'

'The crystals will not glow a second time from the same touch, young man.' Merlin stated neutrally. 'Otherwise, you'd be blind by now, with the way you've been twirling your crystal.'

'Sorry', was all Ron could think of saying.

'Celeste, why don't you try?' Harry suggested, internally dejected that he was found unworthy of a crystal when his best friends qualified so easily. But at least, he wasn't going to be selfish to the point of denying others an opportunity at it.

'I guess it won't hurt', Celeste said evenly, picking up on Harry's thoughts.

The glow produced at her touch, though visibly dimmer than Hermione's or Ron's, was clearly far brighter than Harry's had been.

'Well, I guess that settles it', Harry said, forcing a smile onto his face. He knew he should be feeling happy for Celeste, and Hermione and Ron as well. But part of him greedily felt that if anyone should have been able to wield a crystal, shouldn't it have been him, Harry, the prophesized equal of the Dark Lord? He, Harry, who will eventually have to kill Voldemort, if the world was to see a new dawn? How could he be unworthy of wielding a crystal, when people like Hermione, and even Ron could?

Harry gingerly shook his head, trying to shake away those jealous thoughts out of his mind. Memories of when Ron had gotten his prefect badge came unbidden to his mind. _Yes_, Harry thought. _If I could let that go then, I certainly can let this go now…_

'Here Harry…' Celeste thrust the Air crystal into his hands, as if reading his conflicted desire, which she probably was. 'I'm sure you will be needing this more than I will.'

_I don't need your pity!_ Was what Harry wanted to shout to the midnight haired girl, who, at this very instant, appeared to him as nothing but a vile temptress who bested him for the crystal… no, who STOLE HIS crystal from him.

_What's going on?_ Harry thought, holding his head in his hands, trying to rid himself of these strange, lowly thoughts. He glanced around, hoping to see if anyone can give him an answer. But all he saw was the hurtful expression in Celeste's eyes.

_Oh no! Our link! She knows exactly what I just thought of her!_ Harry realized belatedly. Instantly, the strange, alien ill feelings he had toward Celeste evaporated, only to be replaced with a deep mix of shame, love, and regret. How will he ever explain to her what just happened? That he was momentarily taken over by a wave of emotions almost not his own? Even in his head, the explanation sounded ridiculous. Harry can only hung his head in defeat, thinking that perhaps he just ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.

When he dared to look at Celeste in the eye once more, Harry was surprised to find that she was now sadly but genuinely smiling at him. _Right! The link. It can really help explain things when words cannot. Maybe this isn't so bad after all._

'I think you should have it', Harry said, handing the crystal back to Celeste. 'You can wield it better, so you deserve it more.'

Celeste said nothing, but didn't let go of Harry's hand once he had handed her back the crystal. They smiled at each other in understanding.

'I must warn you though, that wielding these crystals can have terrible consequences', Merlin's voice cut through their thoughts. 'As with the use of all great powers, there is a price to pay… In this case, the crystals seem to have twisted sense of humor. They are neither good nor evil, but like to push wielders of compassionate nature to become evil incarnate, and vis-versa for their evil masters.

'These effects are especially pronounced on those who can not wield them properly. The crystal shards would play mind tricks on their holders, sometimes forcing them to say or do things fundamentally contrary to their nature. Eventually, the crystal's influence would overwhelm the wielder's own senses, transforming his personality into the very opposite of what it had initially been.

_So that's what was happening to me/Harry_, the Boy-Who-Lived and Celeste thought in unison, the last word overlapping in their linked minds.

'I suspect that even if one was chosen to wield a crystal, only those strong of mind can ever hold onto these crystals for prolonged use. And only determined souls can unravel the shards' full potential, without losing their own essence in the process', continued the portrait of Merlin. 'Thus I must strongly impress upon you the gravity of the magic you're now holding… Should you ever find yourself unable to explain your own behavior, give up the crystal immediately. For not only do you risk of betraying all that you hold dear (here, Ron and Hermione cast a furtive look at each other), but you might very well become the very enemy you had been fighting against!' Concluded Merlin cryptically, with all the drama that usually went into such speeches.

'I understand', Ron was the first to say, his eyes gleaming with a fiery determination that not even Hermione or Harry had seen before. 'I will die before I betray my family and friends!'

'That is very commendable, young man' portrait Merlin replied to him, with something akin to respect. 'But keep in mind that the Crystal Shard might even use your selflessness against you. Remember that for the times of darkness ahead, when all will seem lost to you.'

All three crystal holding youths nodded with conviction, trying to imprint what Merlin just said to memory. Harry wondered what he could do, seeing as he had not gained a crystal, or any other kind of magical artifact. He knew he can't always rely on his friends to help him in the coming battle, nor did he wish to. Harry expressed this concern to Merlin.

'Hmm…' Merlin stayed pensive for a while. 'Tell me Harry. This prophecy of yours, you said that it states that you can only die at the hands of Voldemort? How sure are you of this?'

'Well…' Harry began, not really wanting to admit that he wasn't at all. 'It did say that _either MUST die at the hand of the other…_So I assume that the _must die_ part meant that only Voldemort can kill me.'

'In that case, I think I might have something for you' Merlin said. 'This artifact killed every single being that came in contact with it. But fortunately for you, that's all it does. No mind possession or anything. Thus, as you are very sure that you can only die at the hands of the dark lord, then you should survive and even possibly use the thing.'

Harry gulped.

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A/N:** Please **REVIEW**! I'll post the next chapter when the review count hits 130, how's that? And remember! More reviews equals faster updates! Not only for the next chapter, but for all the chapters down the road as well! (Update: ok, well, since it's way beyond that now and I have not even finished the draft of chapter 16 honestly, I didn't expect zombiewolf to like this so much, I will have to get back to you guys by end of next week). 

Also, I'm **not** really that much of **a review whore** :) I actually really would like your opinions of the story. For example, for this chapter, what did you guys think of Crystal Shards? Did you go: 'oh no, not another elemental magic thingy'? (don't worry, it won't be). And what did you guys think of Voldemort and his powers? Is he getting waaay too powerful or what? And what of all the naked innuendos I put in this time? I did go a bit overboard, didn't I? Also, anyone care to make suggestions as to what Harry might receive for his magical item? I have an idea aleady, but if yours prove to be better, then by all means, I will give you full credit in my story! Let me know!

Replies to all reviews for Chapter 14:

Bobboky: Good questions! Only time will tell. Can't say more.

FSl: Yeah, thx. I hope to finish Requiem of Love soon. The delay is caused by me not being able to write worthy enough things for it at the present.

Zavion: Yes, that would be one of the big issues in their relationship, though I've already planned for a far bigger one, and dropped hints of it too! Anyhow, don't worry, I won't solve that problem you mentioned in that oh so simple way.

Brimbor: Haha, yeah. That whole Harry/Ginny thing just came out of no where, didn't it?

Drake0x: Thanks! What do you think of the characters so far though?

Choas Babe: Yeah, I'm not too hot on those sex crazed lunatic stories either. Though I did go a bit overboard this chappy with all the dirty scenes, eh?

moss and stone: Nah. She's not. But I don't think it should be 'love' either.

e: I will!

Minute Having Man: Yes, I agree. But Harry will be getting his powers next chapter, you just wait and see.


	16. Harry's New Toy

**A/N**: Sorry people! So sorry! Remind me never to make deals like that again when I go into midterms! Anyhow, really really sorry. To make it up to you, I've made quite a few things happen in this chapter. Also look for more frequent updates now that I'm clear of my midterms!

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Chapter 16 **

**Harry's New Toy**

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, port-keyed like a drenched chicken into his office, a pond of seawater forming below him. He had held up his shield until he was absolutely certain that everyone else portkey'ed away from the sunken muggle aircraft carrier. However, the constant pressure of seawater from all directions at 400 meters' of depth, in addition to the strain he suffered earlier against those powerful beams from Azkaban, not to mention the relentless annoyance of keeping Fudge in check, eventually wore him down, and he was forced to drop the shield moments before his portkey activated. Fortunately for the headmaster, he got away before the full pressure of that depth could be brought to bear upon him, though he didn't leave the scene fast enough to avoid getting drenched.

All in all, Dumbledore thought that his timing had been rather fortunate. A moment later, and he would have been crushed into a meat pie.

Dumbledore was just about to floo to the Ministry to check up on everyone, as well as to help things out, when a cacophony of shouts and indignations reached his ears. After awhile, he was able to make out the important segments: 'That little Malfoy brat… somehow sneaked in… sorting hat… stolen… wanted to steal more…Fawkes pecked him away… Lucius will pay…'

'Are you telling me', Dumbledore addressed no portrait in particular. 'That Lucius Malfoy somehow broke into my office, and stole the sorting hat?'

'Yes, Albus', the portrait of a random bearded old man said.

_Very clever, Tom. Very clever…_ Dumbledore thought to himself, trying to remain calm. Not only did the sorting hat hear about the prophecy, it also knew about most of the secrets of the Order discussed in his office. If Voldemort could somehow find a way to extract those information from the hat (and Dumbledore did not doubt for a second that Tom could), the consequences would be extremely dire. Seeing that Dumbledore was shocked into silence, the portraits started their agitated conversations once more.

'Am I interrupting something?' an unfamiliar voice spoke up from near the ceiling of Dumbledore's office, drawing the headmaster out of his reveries. The other portraits also instantly fell silent from their fairly loud discussions.

'I've been instructed to deliver a message to you', a rugged, tall, and mustached red-haired man, with a familiar (though much newer looking) hat said without preamble from his rather old and dusty portrait with only four chairs as non-wall related background. In fact, the portrait, as far as anyone could remember, had always been of four vacant chairs.

Dumbledore, for the second time in a minute, was shocked into silence. If the words of his predecessor are to be believed, than that man can only be…

'What can I do for you, Godric?' Dumbledore replied, using his most respectful tone. It was a well known secret, passed down through the Headmasters of Hogwarts, that the said painting, though always empty, was the only known portrait of Hogwarts' four founders.

'The teacher of my teacher asked that the following message be delivered to you, word for word', Here, Godric Gryffindor cleared his imaginary throat a bit. '_To be delivered word for word to the current headmaster of Hogwarts, my young apprentice. Here it is. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley are with me. I shall be training them for the next while. Do not concern yourself. The headmaster's name should be Albus Dumbledore, if I remember correctly. He's a bit of a klutz and somewhat mentally deranged, from what I heard. Well, I leave the rest to you, and say hello to little Godric for me._' Godric finished with an embarrassed and somewhat an apologetic look on his face.

'Ah. I see…' Dumbledore murmured. 'Hmm… just out of curiosity. Who is this teacher of your teacher?'

'Merlin', Godric simply stated. 'Well, if there is nothing else, I best be going.'

'Wait!' Dumbledore exclaimed, contrary to his normal, composed self. 'Your hat has been stolen by the current dark lord in our world. It has been privy to some rather important secrets over the years, secrets that the dark lord can use to annihilate what little advantage we have over him. Can you think of something that we can do?'

'YOU LOST MY HAT!' Gryffindor shouted, unusual panic in the imposing man's voice. After taking an imaginary deep breath, the portrait continued: 'This is not good news, for certain. For there is a far bigger secret residing within my hat than what little secrets you might have put into it over the years…'

At the what-could-be-more-important look Dumbledore was giving him, Godric's portrait decided to elaborate.

'As the only living second generation apprentice of Merlin in my dying days, I decided to entrust the location of Merlin's Tomb into my hat, rather than having it passed down from generation to generation and risk it be leaked. For Merlin, in his dying days, decided to store away a significant number of powerful magic artifacts in his tomb, fearing that they might befall into the wrong hands. If your dark lord can force the tomb's location out of my hat and somehow overcome the magics that protect the tomb, then I'm afraid that no power in this world can stop him again.'

Dumbledore, who had always suspected about the existence of such a powerful deposit of magical artifacts, was already formulating a plan that might be to his advantage: 'Then perhaps you can tell me the location of the Tomb, so I can go and reinforce it before Voldemort gets there.' Dumbledore offered, appearing to put his concern for the Order's secrets aside for the moment, though in truth wishing to seize the artifacts for his own use in this coming war.

'I wish I could, but I didn't even entrust the location of the Tomb to my own portrait. And since I'm the said portrait, I have no idea where the Tomb is.' Godric's portrait replied, dejected. 'There is only one good thing about this situation, I guess.'

'What's that?' Dumbledore asked.

'My hat was charmed to implode on itself after communicating this most secretive of secrets to anyone. So, if Voldemort decides to force that out of it first, then all your secrets will be safe… For whatever good that will do…' Godric trailed off, a bit miffed at Dumbledore for being the first headmaster to lose the school's sorting hat. 'We can only hope that Merlin had put up enough safeguards and fail-safes in his Tomb to deal with this dark lord of yours…'

'Yes, we can only hope…' Dumbledore repeated uselessly.

…………………

'In that case, I think I might have something for you' Merlin said. 'This artifact killed every single being that came in contact with it. But fortunately for you, that's all it does. No mind possession or anything. Thus, as you are very sure that you can only die at the hands of the dark lord, then you should survive and even possibly use the thing.'

Harry gulped.

'Surely, you are not serious, sir?' Hermione pecked up beside Harry. 'You're not going to risk Harry's life based on some confusing wording of a very unclear prophecy, are you? Especially when prophecies are known for their twisted sense of humor when it comes to the true meaning behind their words? It's one thing to know that Harry might only be killed by Voldemort, but it's quite another to go out and actively seek death by other means just to test this theory! Quite frankly, that's rather irresponsible of you!'

Harry could only silently agree, except for the irresponsible part, as he and Ron were both looking at Hermione with open mouths, shocked by her daring.

'Well, I'm pretty sure that if anyone can use that artifact, it would be young Harry here', Merlin offered, sounding somewhat defensive. 'It's Harry's decision, I would say.'

'Harry?' Hermione turned to him with a you'd-better-not-go-along-with-this-non-sense look.

'Yeah, I think we should try it', Harry said, emboldened by his desire to have at least something to help him fight against Voldemort, and not be a future burden for his currently more powerful friends.

'Very well! Over here!' Merlin said, already standing in another portrait, as if knowing what Harry would decide. 'The rest of you, stay back!'

'What is this weapon, sir?' Harry asked.

'Oh, it's not a weapon, per say', Merlin explained. 'It's a small shield for defense. It has some rather amazing defensive properties, or so I was told. It's rumored to be left behind by a divine being from a higher plane, or something equally ridiculous. Nevertheless, it's quite powerful.'

'So how do I use it?' Harry said.

'Well, simple. First, when you touch it, the shield should emit a spherical wave of cleansing light. And if you survive that, then you should be able to manipulate the shield's powers as instinctively as you'd use your own hand… in theory.'

'In theory!' Harry exclaimed, a bit disturbed by Merlin's lack of assurance.

'This cleansing light… what does it do, exactly?' Hermione decided to ask.

'Nothing much… Only disintegrate anything organic that it deems impure in a 10 foot radius', Merlin said, offhandedly, though not daring to look Harry in the eye.

Harry hesitated, not really sure if he wanted to risk his life for a magic shield who's properties Merlin wasn't even sure of. But then again, if he didn't try, he would be putting his friends, not to mention the rest of the wizarding world, in more danger due to his lack of strength against his prophesized foe.

Harry decided to take a closer look at what he was going to risk his life for before deciding.

A small silvery shield, barely the size of a large dining plate, rested atop the stand Merlin's portrait indicated. Graceful and fancy patterns were etched all along its surface, reminiscent of ancient runes long forgotten. A big, galleon sized diamond like jewel was encrusted at its center, with seven smaller jewels of various colors adorning the perimeter of the spherical shield. A pair of angel wings, made out of some unrecognizable material that conferred upon the wings an almost living quality, extended out from each of the smaller jewels, forming an extended circle around the silvery disc.

Harry was impressed. Not by the obvious holy theme, but because the shield just seemed to scream of righteous power, its central gem almost pulsing like a beacon to him.

He eagerly approached the stand, took a deep breath and, before anyone could stop him, thrust his hands toward the shinny shield. Instantly a wave of tremendous energy surged forth from the central jewel, englobing Harry Potter within a bright, glowing sphere that quickly expanded outward, nearly reaching Hermione and friends.

Harry felt oddly comfortable within the sphere, as if the weight of every single bad memory he ever had was lifted from his mind. _This must be the purifying process at work…_Harry concluded correctly. After awhile, the white sphere collapsed back into the central diamond, leaving a relieved Harry free to pick up his fancy prize.

'You're alive!' Merlin said happily, as if this was not what he had expected. Harry gave him a dark look, deciding that insanity must be a common trait among bearded, knowledgeable old men. He was interrupted from his sulking by his friends, berating him for his recklessness and congratulating him on receiving the magic shield.

'How do I use this?' Harry asked Merlin after a while, noting that the only way to strap the shield was between his wrist and elbow, leaving his hand still very exposed. 'This small shield doesn't exactly cover a lot…'

'Well, from what I gather, its usage should be instinctive', Merlin said. 'Maybe if you think that you're in danger…'

'How would I do that?' Harry asked.

'Easy!' Hermione offered, ever practical. Pulling out her wand, she cast the first spell that came to her mind: 'Stupefy!'

The jet of red light zoomed toward Harry at an amazing speed, taking Harry by surprise. However, just as it was about to hit the Boy-Who-Lived, the beam of light bent away from its original course, and headed instead toward the silvery shield strapped on Harry's left arm, to be eventually absorbed into the shield's central jewel. The diamond glowed briefly, as if taunting the enemy to send it more spells to absorb.

'Expelliarmus!' Celeste joined in, though she shouted the incantation simply for effect, as she had cast her own brand of magic at Harry. Her spell was absorbed into the central diamond as well.

'Wow. Let me try', Ron said, pulling out his wand as well. 'Incendio!'

And instead of the small wisp of fire Ron was used to, a gigantic, man sized fireball surged from his wand, knocking him back with its recoil. Ron watched in horrid paralysis as his burning ball of destruction bore down on Harry, seemingly unbent by the absorbing powers of Harry's new shield. Out of instinct, Harry brought the shield in front of him, bracing himself for the impact.

Fortunately, Ron's monstrous spell was eventually absorbed into the diamond jewel as well, apparently helped by the fact that Harry brought the shield right in front of the fireball's path.

Ron was just about to approach Harry and apologize when the central diamond on the small shield suddenly flared up, and discharged its glow along the silvery shield's surface toward the seven smaller jewels at the shield's edge. And to the amazement of all present (including a wide-eyed Merlin), the smaller jewels, with an almost explosive like sound, detached themselves from the shield, their angelic wings fluttering madly and propelling them high into the air.

No soon had they stabilized their flight, the seven jewels dispersed away from Harry in seven opposing directions, only to converge again upon Harry's three attackers, encircling Celeste, Ron, and Hermione in a wide circle, and twirling madly in the air above them.

And before anyone could react, beams of red light surged forth from the seven flying jewels, attacking Ron, Hermione, and Celeste, simultaneously.

The last thing Ron heard before collapsing into unconsciousness was the shout of Hermione trying to cast a protection charm about herself.

………………

'Alright there, Ron?' Was the first thing Ron heard as his eyes opened to the sight of his best male friend.

'Yeah… What happened?' Ron asked.

'It's amazing, actually!' Came the voice of his other, more female, best friend. 'Harry's shield seems to absorb energies of spells cast at him. And, once enough energy was absorbed, the shield re-channels these energies into those flying jewels at the perimeter of the shield. Those jewels in turn would fly out and discharge the absorbed energy back at Harry's attackers, in the forms of stunning spells, it would seem.'

'Huh…' Ron mumbled. 'What about that giant fireball I fired? How the heck did I get that off? I swear Harry, I didn't know that my Incendio spell would have been that powerful!'

'Yes. I suspect that had something to do with the fire shard that you got, Ron.' Hermione offered assuredly. 'It must have begun to enhance the power of the spells related to its elemental, which is fire.'

'Cool', Ron said detachedly. 'I'm so much stronger now! Wait til I see Malfoy! And you, mate! You're almost invincible now! You can absorb any spell and then use that energy against its own caster!'

'Err… not really', Harry said. 'I didn't have time to mention it, but I felt really weak each time the shield absorbed one of you guys' spells back there. And when I absorbed your fireball, Ron, I almost passed out. I think that even though this shield uses absorbed spell energies to power those flying jewels' attacks, it still taps into my own magical powers when it's trying to absorb incoming spells.'

'Hmm… So you're still expanding the energy to counter incoming spells then… Just that the shield will let you do it without the need to say any incantation or worry about casting the right counter-jinx.' Observed Hermione, ever practical. 'So, does that mean you can't use it to absorb a Killing curse, let's say? Because it would demand too much power from your body?'

'I'm not sure, Hermione', Harry said. 'I won't know until I actually have to do it… And I'm in no hurry to test that.'

'Well, congratulations on not dying from touching the shield, Harry.' Merlin said from a random painting on the wall. 'You must have something special, I dare say. Many kind-hearted wizards before you have tried to master this artifact, and met their untimely death from its cleansing touch. Take care of that shield, Harry. I'm sure it still has many secrets that need to be unlocked.'

'Yes, sir.' Harry said politely, wondering what's so special about him. Maybe it has something to do with the supposed power he has _that Voldemort knows not_?

'Well then, let's head back to the main hall. I dare say we have a lot to do ahead of us', Merlin eventually announced, beckoning them toward his portrait.

Harry hastily linked hands with Celeste, hoping to avoid a repeat of the incident from their journey in. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione casting a binding charm on the wrists of a surprisingly compliant Ron, evidently also trying to avoid the incident from earlier.

………………

In a small magical village near the Austrian-Hungarian border…

'Keep up the pressure! Their defense is wavering!' An auror captain yelled, charging at the retreating ranks of the Dark Army.

Around him, jets of fire erupted from many auror wands, thinning Voldemort's army even further. The auror captain could almost make out the fearful expressions on the masked faces of the only two human combatants on Voldemort's side. They stood far away from combat, probably acting as commanders to the dark creatures.

Suddenly, many shouts of panic erupted from the front lines, and the auror captain, having torn his gaze away from the two Death Eaters in the distance, immediately saw why his aurors were panicking: a dark locust of flying insects were fast approaching them, and by the look of it, those insects could deal some serious damage in numbers.

'Burn them! Cast your most wide area of effect fire spell!' He commanded hastily, and was promptly obeyed. However, as with most spells with a wide area of effect, the strength of the conjured magical fires was fairly low, and the dark insects seemed unaffected by them.

The auror captain, along with many other more veteran aurors, immediately switched to a more concentrated fire spell, and was rewarded with the toasting of all the insects in the spell's path.

'Switch to a more concentrated fire spell! Cast physical protection spells on yourselves. There might be a lot of them, but they can't harm you even if you use the weakest of physical protection charms!' Commanded/explained the auror captain.

However, the insects were designed to attack the aurors far more than physically. Voldemort, knowing how easy it would be for aurors to overcome small insects even in large quantities, had decided to create his own brand of locust, where the insects not only inflict heavy physical damage with their venomous bites, but also poison the air they fly through, incapacitating and usually killing whoever foolish enough to breathe when engulfed in the locust's path. Voldemort knew full well that his own dark army, made up mostly of zombies and misty armored warriors, would have remained largely unaffected even when inside the poisonous smog, and counted on this fact.

And he was right. The aurors, strained by the magical demand of holding up both a physical defense charm and a bubblehead charm at the same time, were now far less effective against the renewed advance of the dark army.

The auror captain realized this as well. Conceding defeat for the moment, he promptly signaled to his troops to apparate back to a safer location.

All across the raging battlelines of central Europe, similar scenarios played out, with the aurors having no choice but to make a full retreat in the face of this new strategy.

The liberation of Europe from Voldemort's clutches has been halted.

…………………

'Can't you guide where those jewels fly to?' Asked an annoyed Hermione as she dodged another of Harry's new flying toys.

'No. I can barely make them fly out from the shield at will. I don't even know how to target something yet.'

'Well, you seemed to have done a pretty good job back when you first got it', cut in Ron, who was mock dueling with Hermione before Harry's flying terrors interrupted them.

'Yeah, but that was pure instinct. This is much harder. It's like accidental magic and controlled magic.'

'Yes, indeed', portrait Merlin cut in. 'Why don't you all take a break? I have a rather interesting mirror to show you…'

'I hope it's not the mirror of Erised… cuz we've already seen one of those…' Harry mumbled under his breath, not sure he wanted to see his parents again through the mirror.

'Oh no. This is something much different.' Merlin said cryptically, in that way only a know-it-all old man could. 'Come up to the South-East tower.'

'Where's Celeste, by the way?' Hermione asked Harry as the trio walked toward the said tower.

'She's practicing casting real spells with a real wand. Said something about blending in more with the locals.'

'How is she doing it? Shouldn't someone be teaching her?' Hermione replied.

'Yes, someone is. She's fetching all the information she needs from right here', Harry tapped his own head with a smile.

'Huh… this link seems pretty handy. You basically have two life-times worth of knowledge in between you.' Hermione said a bit jealously.

'Yeah, and it solved something I've always worried about for any potential girlfriend of mine', Harry said conversationally as the trio climbed the stairs of the South-East tower.

'You mean how you don't have to worry about Voldemort trying to kill Celeste to get to you?' Hermione asked.

'Yeah, pretty much', Harry agreed. 'I must admit, not worrying about whether I'm condemning a girl to her death simply by asking her out does indeed lift a great weight off of my shoulders. Now my relationship with Celeste almost feels like normal.'

'Yes… If you discount the fact that your girlfriend is a giant dragon from another world and that you can pretty much read each other's thoughts and emotions all the time…' Ron said, but was cut off by Hermione.

'So, you two are official then?' She asked sharply.

'Of course they are, Hermione!' Ron offered before Harry could answer. 'They slept in the same…'

'This way, this way!' Merlin's portrait cut Ron off (much to Harry's relief), pointing to a mirror haphazardly leaned against the walls of the chamber. 'Take a look, my young friends. This mirror should be able to show you your animagus form, should you have one.'

Beside him, Harry heard Hermione drew a sharp intake of breath, while Ron just gulped. Harry understood their anxiety, for he felt a bit nervous himself. What will his form be? Will he even have a form at all? But he should have one, shouldn't he? His dad did, after all…

Glancing nervously at each other as if to decide who should go first, the trio's only female decided to end the suspense first. Hermione hesitantly stepped in front of the mirror, and glanced into it. She had initially started smiling, but her expression quickly turned into a disappointed frown.

'Well?' Ron exclaimed, unable to take the suspense any longer.

'Well. It would appear that my animagus form is... a dolphin', Hermione deadpanned, though disappointment could clearly be seen in her eyes.

'A… dolphin? You mean those big sea fishes?' Ron asked.

'They are mammals!' Hermione snapped, about to vent her frustrations out on Ron. However, Ron seemed to have grown more adept at reading her moods lately, and sensing the coming onslaught, quickly tried to change the subject: 'Well! Let's see what I get!'

After a while of looking at the mirror in a very confused fashion, Ron finally stepped away. At the questioning look that Harry and Hermione were giving him, Ron stated dumbly: 'Do any of you know an animal that looks like a bear, but its fur is black and white, and it looks like someone gave it a permanent black eye… to both of its eyes?'

'Err… not really. Sorry mate.' Harry replied, truly having no idea what Ron was talking about. 'Hermione?'

'Black and white fur you say…' Hermione bit her bottom lip. 'Permanent black eye… You mean, a giant panda?'

'What is a giant panda?' Ron and Harry chorused.

'Something like this.' Hermione replied, transfiguring a nearby candleholder into a miniature, flat and wooden imitation of a giant panda. Harry immediately recognized it as one of those endangered species his elementary school teacher talked about from time to time, though he never bothered learning the animal's actual name.

'Yeah! That's it!' Ron said excitedly. 'So what kind of powers do they have?'

'Ron… Need I remind you that animagus forms have no magical powers?' Hermione scolded the redhead, far harshly than was necessary. She had evidently still not recovered from learning that her form is a water-confined dolphin. 'And as far as I know, all that the giant panda do all day long is to eat and sleep. And they are rumored to have no sex drive either.'

Harry silently thought that the first part of the animal's description seemed to fit Ron to the letter. Ignoring the predictable bickering that had now started between his two best friends, Harry slowly approached the mirror, curious as to what his own form would be.

But after five full minutes in front of the mirror and still seeing nothing but his own reflection in it, Harry sadly stepped away.

'Well, looks like I have no animagus form', Harry addressed his two friends, who had, by now, suspended their row to shower him with their full attention.

'What? How come?' Ron asked. Totally tactless, he added: 'But even Hermione and I have forms! How can you not have one?'

'Perhaps I'm not as powerful or special as people made me out to be', Harry replied with a bittersweet smile. 'I didn't get any of the crystal shards either, remember?'

'Don't bring yourself down, Harry. Mastery over a crystal or having an animagus form are both almost random powers, as far as I can tell.' Hermione tried to placate her friend. 'I'm sure this isn't a true reflection over your actual powers. Remember how you could do all those defense against the dark arts spells that even full-fledged adults couldn't do? And how easy you pick up on those spells too! So…'

'It's ok, Hermione', Harry said. 'I'm not THAT upset. I mean, sure, I'm a bit disappointed to not get anything in both cases. But I'm not so stuck-up to the point of believing that I am automatically good enough for everything. People just have this… almost god-like image of me sometimes, believing that I have all these hidden powers that just beg to be let loose. And to some degree, I think we all fell into that belief over the years.

'But I should have known better. And today is simply a sobering wakeup call for me, that's all. I mean, I know I have some special power or other that would let me vanquish the dark lord, if the prophecy is to be believed, but we really shouldn't assume that it means I'm going to excel at everything because of it.'

'You've grown far more mature than I thought, Harry.' Hermione said smiling like a mother looking at her grown up son. Standing up on her tip-toes, Hermione gave Harry a peck on the cheek. 'A year ago, you probably would have thrown a tantrum over this, or at least sulk for a good few days.'

'Hahahaha', Harry laughed nervously, glancing at Ron, and noting that his red-haired friend had indeed not liked the peck he just received from Hermione. 'Well, I'll go train some more with this shield. You and Ron can stay here and let Merlin here teach you all about animagus transformations.'

And with that, Harry quickly fled the scene.

That night, after having his prolonged 'good night' kiss with Celeste rudely interrupted by not so discreet coughs from both Hermione and portrait Merlin, Harry, resting in his own, individual room, was finally able to reflect upon the whirlwind of adventures and tales that he had encountered in the past few days. Before long, his head was filled with a jumble of stories about elves, dragons, goblins, wars, dark lords and other such mismatched things. Harry briefly recalled a muggle epic novel that he had tried to read once, involving some dark lord pouring much of his magic into a ring of power in the hopes of enslaving the world of elves, dwarves, and men through it. In the end, the ring was destroyed, ensuring the end of the dark lord in that saga as well.

Harry briefly wondered if Voldemort would be stupid enough to also create such a ring of power. _Nah… Voldie isn't dumb enough to entrust such a significant portion of his own magic into something so small and vulnerable._ Harry concluded with certainty before drifting into the land of dreams.

…………………

Flying Fortress of Azkaban, hovering somewhere over Romania

'I have created these rings of power!' Voldemort proclaimed to the assembled crowd composed mainly of his most loyal death eaters, with some observers from his allies all over the world specially invited for the occasion. They were standing in the courtyard of the flying fortress of Azkaban, with Voldemort speaking from a raised stage of sorts, a curtain behind him for some sort of unveiling.

'These rings are my gift to you, my most loyal death eaters', Voldemort continued. 'A reward that will grant you a portion of my power, power that will help you wield dominion over the most fearsome creatures in our world!

'Behold! (This was obviously a cue for the curtain behind the dark lord to be pulled down, revealing a huge Hungarian horntail, with some sort of magical and metallic collar attached at the base of its neck) The rings of power that you shall soon receive will allow you to control a dragon like you would anyone under the Imperius curse… I trust that most of you have some experience in that domain?'

Voldemort paused here for the laughter he was expecting, for he had obviously just made a joke, and Crucio to anyone who won't laugh to it. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, some extremely awkward laugh could be heard through out the crowd. Nobody had believed that their esteemed (but very, very cruel) Dark Lord had just made a joke…

'Perhaps a demonstration of the power you shall wield is in order…' Voldemort said, more for the benefit of the observers his allies had sent.

The dark lord gave a curt nod to a guard standing near one of the side entrances. He promptly opened the door, and one of the captured aurors from earlier, a muggle-born, was brought out.

Without even a preamble, Voldemort pointed his wand at the auror, and with a deft flick of his wrist, sent the man flying high into the air straight above him.

'Go fetch me that worthless mudblood! I want him alive!' Voldemort commanded, addressing the Hungarian Horntail out loud for added awe effect. In truth, no verbal command was needed.

And as an obedient dog, the mightly Horntail spread its jagged wings and sped toward the falling auror, a sinister red glint in its eyes. Timing it perfectly, the dragon caught the hapless auror by his collar as the man fell by, and slowly descended to the courtyard.

The dragon deposited the now white-faced auror right in front of Voldemort, a hungry but contained expression in its eyes.

'Excellent work, my pet. I know you're hungry, so…' flicking his wand at the auror once more, Voldemort again sent the man flying, this time high beyond the castle walls: 'Go and feed yourself…'

After the Horntail had taken off with a maniacal flurry of its wings, Voldemort turned to address a now shocked, awed, and excited crowd of death eaters. Needless to say that the observers from his allies, not having worked under the dark lord and thus having heard nothing of Voldemort's sinister new powers, were even more impressed.

'This power will be yours, my loyal death eaters, through the rings you shall soon receive! However, these rings are not to be treated lightly!' Voldemort continued evilly. 'For they do hold a portion of my power. And you've all been handpicked by my Inner Circle as worthy enough to be trusted with this holiest of treasures. If you ever find yourself about to be captured or killed with no way out, then you must destroy your ring immediately! For only then, will the power stored in the ring return to me. If I ever find that you've failed in this task, then know that you, and your family will suffer greatly for failing me in this highest of regards!'

'Now go, my great dragonriders! MacNair and Nott will instruct and train you further on how to take advantage of your new steeds, and spread terror amongst all my foes!'

After a great many cheering from the death eater masses and even more fist wavering through the air, the minions of the dark lord that had been assembled in the courtyard of the flying fortress started to head toward solid ground, where a gleeful MacNair was waiting for them, with more than a thousand captured dragons gathered behind him.

'Are you sure that it is wise to divide your power like so, my Lord?' Lucius asked his master, concerned.

'Ah, my dear Lucius, if it weren't for your success in stealing that sorting hat from right under Dumbledore's nose, you'd certainly be contorting on the floor right now for implying weakness in my powers', Voldemort replied casually, his back to the elder Malfoy.

'Forgive me, my Lord', Lucius quickly replied. 'I should have known better than to doubt your judgment.'

'Yes indeed. You should have. See that it never happens again!' Voldemort hissed. 'Now where is that hat?'

'In your throne room, my Lord. Awaiting your inspection, as you've instructed.' Lucius bowed.

'Excellent. Let us hope, for your sake, that the sorting hat indeed knows the information I'm looking for…' And with that, the dark lord strode toward his throne room.

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Any suggestions or comments welcome in a** REVIEW**! Especially give me your thoughts on Harry's new toy, or Ron and Hermione's animagus forms! thx!

**A/N**: Just a clarification here: The dragons Voldemort is ensnaring are the normal, beast-minded dragons from Harry's magical world, such as Hungarian Horntails, Chinese Fireballs, Norwegian Ridgebacks, etc. Whereas, Celeste and her 'people' are the far bigger, smarter-than-human, magic wielding metallic dragons that was exiled from Harry's world long long ago.

Also: If you're worried, this shield, is NOT Harry's ultimate power, though it is connected to it. Harry will be receiving a flurry of new 'things' in the coming chapters. So stay tuned! and encourage faster updates with reviews!


	17. The Hidden Shards

**A/N**: Wow, thx for the reviews guys. Some of them were quite interesting. My comments to them are at the end of this chapter. For now, please enjoy this new chapter, which is like a setup to the climatic confrontation that will soon be upon Harry and friends.

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Chapter 17

**The Hidden Shards**

'Albus! Albus!' Yelled a frantic female Order member as she burst into Grimmauld Place amidst the chaos of a hurried relocation. For Dumbledore, realizing that the location of the Order might be compromised at any moment due to the recent loss of the sorting hat, had decided to temporarily move the headquarters to Hogwarts.

'What is it, Mrs. Ano…' Dumbledore started to ask.

'News from our new spy… in… Azkaban…' The new arrival said, panting. 'Voldemort… rings… control… dragons… army…'

And after the meaning of those words were explained in a more comprehensible fashion, all members of the Order within earshot started to murmur in panic.

'I don't see why you're all panicking', Moody started, a bit disgusted by the lack of guts from his fellow members. 'We'll just take them dragons down, like those dragon handlers have been doing it all this time!'

'But Mad-Eye, that's the thing: We won't be able to!' Charlie stated, walking up to an increasing crowd forming around Dumbledore. 'Normally, dragons are fairly scattered across the globe, which is the way those beasts like to live. At most, we'll find no more than three or four bunched together, and usually less than that. And even then, when we wish to capture such a small group, we need to gather a team of no less than thirty wizards that have above average skills with a broom just to ensure that nobody gets hurt during the capture.

'Now, you're telling me that Voldemort has hundreds of dragons grouped together, which in itself is already a very, very bad thing. And I'm assuming that those dragons' human riders would have given them extra protection, and guide them to be far more skillful than the predictable animalistic behaviors that we dragon handlers usually exploit when trying to subdue a dragon.

'So all in all, I think it'd be a good bet that we can no longer take down a dragon with simply seven or eight potent stunning spells fired at the same time. It'd probably be far harder now…'

After finishing his expose, Charlie noticed that a great many people in the crowd of Order members now sported defeated looks on their faces. 'Well, I'm sure there is still a way to take a dragon down. We just have to work hard at it, that's all', Charlie decided to add in a futile attempt to alleviate the grim mood.

'Yes, there is no need for distress, my friends', Dumbledore decided to interject. 'The various ministries across the world have already coordinated with each other, and flying squadrons of hippogriffs, winged horses, and newly designed battle-brooms are being assembled to counter this threat as we speak.'

The crowd seemed to visibly relax at those words, and, though far less optimistic about the ongoing war than before, still returned to their duties with hope in their hearts.

'Phew… Good that the ministry reacted so quickly this time, headmaster', Charlie said quietly to Dumbledore. 'For a moment there I thought the crowd was going to quit on us!'

'Yes, Albus… I also find it strange that the ministry has reacted so quickly over this matter', Minerva McGonagall chipped in from beside the aged man. 'I didn't think the ministry had the resources to uncover this news faster than we did with our spy…'

'Ah, well put, Minerva', Dumbledore said in a lowered voice. 'The ministry indeed does not know of this. However, it is true that they have been putting together a significant force of flying creatures. The ministry had hoped to gain the upper hand with such a task force, but alas, I see now that Tom has outdone us once again. The ministry will now have no choice but to pit their new flying squads against these dragonriders.'

'I see…' Was all Minerva could say before returning to her assigned packing duties. Staying out of notice on the side was a worried Remus Lupin: _When are you coming back, Harry? We sure could use a moral boost right now…_

…………………

'Harry, you still awake?' Came a now familiar female voice from the door to Harry's improvised sleeping quarters.

'Celeste? What are you doing here?' Harry replied, perfectly awake.

'I wanted to be close to you… Is that wrong of me?' Celeste asked, a blush making its way onto her delicate features. She was still unsure about all these strange rituals concerning couples that she had glimpsed from Harry's mind during the day.

Harry blushed a bit as well, for he was still unaccustomed to such romantic displays of affection. He also wondered, not for the first time, about Celeste's total lack of knowledge in this domain. He finally decided to try to understand her ignorance through his link with Celeste.

The answer came easily: Celeste, though older than Harry by several folds in terms of years, was still considered but a child amongst her immortal people. Thus, she had yet to be exposed to the intricacies of romantic relationships, even amongst her kin, much less be taught another set of nuances for the human version.

'Yes', Celeste confirmed Harry's findings even as they passed through the Boy-Who-Lived's mind. 'I guess I'm just going into this whole relationship by instinct right now… And because I trust you to never take advantage of my ignorance.'

'Ah. That makes two of us then.' Harry admitted shyly, giving Celeste one of those nervous and yet disarming smiles. 'I'm no expert at relationships myself.'

Realizing that perhaps, in light of these revelations, he should take the first step, Harry tentatively approached Celeste and proceeded to gently place a kiss upon her lips. However, just as Celeste started to return the kiss, a rude (to Harry, at least) cough from a painting on the wall interrupted them.

'Yeah… what is it, Merlin… Sir?' Harry replied, perfectly annoyed at rude and meddlesome old men.

'Ah well, just wondering if I might speak with you alone for a bit, that's all…' Merlin asked mysteriously.

'What about?' Harry replied, very annoyed that, for some reason, Merlin decided to interrupt his session with Celeste.

'A matter of uttermost importance…' Merlin gave Celeste an apologetic glance.

'She's going to know anyway, sir. We share a link, remember?' Harry almost taunted the portrait of the venerable old wizard, obviously getting a bit tired of being told what to do by knowledgeable, long-bearded aged men.

Giving out a long sigh, the portrait of Merlin mumbled something akin to 'very well', before settling in a chair within the painting and gesturing Harry and Celeste to do the same.

Since there was no furniture per say in the room, Harry simply sat on his makeshift mattress, leaning against the wall, with Celeste warmly lodged against him in his lap.

'I have', started Merlin, 'alas, received very grave news. It would seem that your infamous dark lord will soon gain access, if he hasn't done so already, to all the information he needs to locate this castle.'

'WHAT? HOW?' Shouted Harry, almost jumping up, though calmed down somewhat by Celeste's gentle restrain.

'_How_ is now irrelevant to us, my young friend. The fact is this Voldemort of yours will soon be upon us.' Merlin stated calmly. 'And I'm afraid that the defenses of this castle will not be enough to stop him.'

'Then we have to warn Hermione and Ron right away! There is no time to lose! We must evacuate!' Harry said, almost jumping up again. This time, Celeste did not move to stop him.

'Calm down, Mr. Potter', Merlin chastised. 'It will take Voldemort at least a day to breach through my defenses from the closest possible apparition point… Yes, even with his formidable powers, there are wards that no magic could ever overcome.

'Now, I wanted to tell you this first, because there are information of the uttermost importance that I need to entrust you with, should all else fail, and all the magical artifacts of this castle be laid unprotected at Voldemort's feet.' Here, Merlin gave a sideway glance at Celeste, which did not escape Harry's notice.

'As I said, sir, she will know anyway', Harry said shortly.

'Alright… You leave me with little choice…' Merlin acquiesced. Taking a deep breath, the portrait started into what was probably going to be a long expose: 'As you've seen today, this castle holds many powerful artifacts… Most of which could single-handedly change the fate of the world… However, all those artifacts are but a decoy to blind any intruders against the real prize that lies here…'

'You mean, there are even more powerful artifacts here?' Harry asked, incredulous, unable to imagine anything that could possibly be more overwhelming than what he had seen earlier in the day.

'Yes… And their power eclipses those that you've seen today in my secret vault like the light of the Sun would eclipse the flicker of a candle… Provided anyone alive can use them at their full potential, of course…'Merlin added quickly.

'Wow…' Was all Harry could think of saying. 'Where are they?'

'Deep within the buried depths of this castle', Merlin offered surprisingly straightforwardly. 'Two items… forever locked in an eternal struggle…'

'Huh? What are they?' Harry asked, now curious.

'Like many powerful artifacts that I've collected, I'm not sure what they are.' The portrait admitted. 'They are akin to the crystal shards you saw today. However, they seem to have been fashioned long before the other shards, and they appear complete and unbroken, when pieced together.'

'So they are really more like crystal gems?' Celeste asked innocently.

'Well… yes. But they are not your usual gems, that much is certain…' Merlin replied. 'For one thing, they are not round or smooth. They are, in actual fact, carved into two complementary sharp edged, symmetrical shards that would snap tight together, even though they are the complete opposite of each other.'

'Well… opposite attract…' Harry mumbled lamely.

'One of them is attuned to all that is light and pure', Merlin continued, ignoring Harry's comment but giving him a very disapproving look. 'And the other is rooted deep in darkness.

'And it is a sad reflection on our race that since time immemorial, many of the dark lords that ever came to be could wield the Shadow shard with passable ease, whereas I have been the only one to ever be able to use the Holy shard in the known history of our world… In fact, I could not have defeated the last dark lord who held the Shadow crystal without it.'

'Ok… Here is a question: why didn't you show that to us then?' Harry asked. 'Maybe we could have used the Holy crystal and end this war once and for all!'

'And that is why I didn't show it to you, Harry.' Merlin replied cryptically. 'For you see, Harry, the power in those crystals are far greater than any human could hope to wield. No matter which of the crystal you hold onto, you will eventually be corrupted by it.

'Yes, even the Holy crystal will corrupt you, Harry', Merlin cut Harry's predictable question off. 'I should know, for I have held on to it once. In the beginning, you would want to help with the crystal's power, imposing reasonable laws amongst the people to cut down on acts of greed and evil. And with the crystal, you could make your will law.

'However, eventually, your need for righteousness would consume you, and instead of the benevolent helper that you set out to be, you'd become an austere despot with no tolerance for any act that deviates from the harsh rules of virtuous laws that our race was never cut out to obey in the first place.

'In other words, Harry, you'd end up just like an evil dark lord… Forever imposing your own views upon the people, no matter how _right_ they might me (which is usually _too right_). And with the Holy shard at your command, your power would be absolute, and you'd plunge the world into a long era of freedom-less torpor that would only end when or if a dark lord defeats you with the Shadow crystal… Only to replace your regime with his own

'And trust me when I say that no man can turn away from the temptations of such power, Harry. I didn't…' Merlin trailed off sadly. 'Yes, Harry. Even I, the great Merlin, had been ensnared by the Holy crystal's powers and the opportunities it provided me. Fortunately, I had been mortally wounded from my last battle against the wielder of the Shadow shard, and it had only been then, when I had been staring Death in the face that I had realized how foolish I've been, and how foolish it would be to leave the two crystals in this world. So, with the few seconds I should have had left to live from my wounds prolonged into weeks by the power of the Holy crystal, I had decided to build this place, and hide away the two crystals here forever.

'Do you see how this vicious circle could never be allowed to start, Harry? Do you see now why I've hidden the two crystals away, sealing them deep within the unreachable depths of the Earth?' Merlin concluded emotionally, looking almost with plea into Harry's eyes.

'Yeah…' Harry finally croaked with a dry throat after a long moment of reflection. 'Why are you telling me all this though?'

'Well… It's simple. I suspect that Voldemort, somehow, knows about the existence of these two shards, and he's on his way here for them.' Merlin stated. 'And if it seem like he is about to succeed, I want you to take the Holy shard out of his reach, and flee this place with the crystal, carry it to safety, and protect it with your life.'

'Me, sir?' Harry asked, incredulous. 'You want me to go up voluntarily against Voldemort?'

'Yes, you, Harry', Merlin said gravely. 'I know this dark lord is powerful, and that you are indeed still at a disadvantage against him. But if Voldemort gains control of both shards, then you would stand no chance at defeating him at all, and this world would be plunged beneath Voldemort's reign for generations to come, if not forever. So as you can see, this is where you must make a stand, should you ever hope to vanquish him. You do not need to fight him. Merely confront him long enough to retrieve the Holy crystal.'

'But! But… What makes you think I can even use the Holy crystal?' Harry asked.

'Did I ever say that I wanted you to wield it?' Merlin lorded mightily from his portrait. Then, smiling, he added: 'Actually, I do. From how that shield accepted you and from my own experiences wielding the Holy crystal, I dare say that there is a good chance that you'd be able to use that shard. But even if it turns out that you can't, you must get the shard away from Voldemort's clutches, Harry, so that, perhaps, another champion of the light might one day use it against Voldemort and his Shadow crystal.'

'I understand, sir…' Harry said seriously.

'Now, Harry, understand that you should only do this as a last resort, when it would appear that there is nothing left to prevent Voldemort from gaining access to those two shards, and not a moment sooner!' Merlin cautioned Harry.

'Yeah… About that, sir', Harry asked hesitantly. 'Are you sure we can't just go and take the Holy crystal away as soon as you know Voldemort has breached your wards? I mean, by then, we'd be pretty sure that he's on his way, and as you seem to assume that there's a fair chance that he'd get through your defenses… Won't it be prudent and safer for us to take the Holy crystal, or even both of them, and leave before Voldie reaches the castle?'

'A valid point that I have also considered, my young friend', Merlin stated. 'But there are several flaws with that plan, alas. Firstly, I am not entirely certain that this dark lord of yours can breach through all the defenses I've laid against any intruders who seek those two shards.

'Secondly, there is no way for me, the portrait me, that is, to lower those defenses for you to get through so that you can take the crystals away. I'm afraid that my living counterpart took no chances, and charmed all the defenses of the twin crystals to indiscriminately attack anyone trying to reach them.

'And thirdly, I really don't want you to help Voldemort by trying to breach the crystals' defenses yourselves, as you are far less likely to succeed and will only end up exhausting your own powers while sparing Voldemort from spending his when he will inevitably make his own attempt for the crystals.

'So I'm afraid that the only option left to you is to await Voldemort's arrival and secretly follow him as he makes his way through the crystal's defenses, letting him do all the hard work for you.

'And remember, Harry, that should you end up having to use the Holy shard, only do so when the Shadow shard is also being wielded.' Merlin cautioned. 'For there is less of a temptation to abuse the power of the Holy crystal if its wielder is too distracted battling against the holder of the Shadow shard.

'And when… or if you defeat Voldemort, stop using the Holy shard immediately, and find a safe place to bury both crystals. Do not succumb to the temptations of the godly powers, Harry… For they ARE meant for gods to wield, not us and our puny minds...'

'Yes sir', Harry said in the calmest and most mature tone he could manage. 'So these crystals came from… the gods?'

'Well…' Merlin started uneasily, casting furtive glances at Celeste.

'They did, didn't they, master Merlin?' Celeste asked neutrally. 'And you did not wish for me to hear of this, for you feared that I would take these otherworldly items away from here, didn't you?'

'Yes, Celeste. That is correct', Merlin admitted, also neutrally. 'I think these crystals might have belonged to the servants of these Makers you keep mentioning. And in all honesty, I'd gladly rid myself and my world of these crystals if I thought that you dragon guardians could handle such power. But I doubt that even your race could resist the possibilities offered by these crystals for long. Your father agreed with me when he was here.'

'If my father respected your judgment, then surely you could have trusted me to do the same', Celeste said, a hint of hurt seeping into her voice.

'My apologies, young lady. I… thought that perhaps, your young age would have made you overconfident in your abilities than your more experienced sire', Merlin said, looking down a bit shamefully.

'I understand', Celeste said, conciliatory.

'Oh, and one more thing Harry', Merlin piped up suddenly, remembering something. 'There is a formidable sentinel guarding the two crystals, and he will only surrender the Holy shard either through his defeat, or by being given the correct password sentence, which is: _I seek to save the Jewel of Alyä_. This is the only respite my living counterpart decided to give to those fighting for the righteous side, and only I, the portrait, can give this knowledge to you under precisely these dire circumstances. Of course, the sentinel will never surrender the Shadow shard under any circumstance.'

'Alyä?' Harry asked, testing the name on his tongue.

'Alyä?' Celeste asked, pronouncing it in a way that showed she knew of the language that name was given in.

'Yes, the Jewel of Alyä, which is another name for the Holy crystal', Merlin explained, giving Celeste a curious look. 'Do you know anything of that name, young lady?'

'Yes, I do. It is from a fairytale of sorts amongst my people, actually', Celeste smiled a bit apologetically, for some reason. 'In that tale, Alyä was a graceful and resplendent princess amongst the servants of the Makers, a people who were, themselves, almost godlike beings.

'She and her beloved, who was also her champion, resided in a castle near the forefront of their people's realm, a stronghold against the enemies of the Makers themselves. For many life-times, the castle, enchanted to the point of almost being alive in its own right, held steady against the onslaught of the dark armies, its formidable defenses obliterating legions of enemy invaders with each strike. And Alyä's champion, an angelic knight clad in armors of blinding radiance, carried many victorious battles deep into the territories of these ancient foes of the Makers, crippling the enemy's resources and forcing them into retreat for eons at a time.

'Because of their selfless deeds of bravery, Alyä and her champion were cherished amongst her kin. But of course, their celebrity did not go unnoticed by the enemy either. Seeking to cripple the morale of the light side, those enemies set a devious trap against Alyä's beloved. With overwhelming numbers, they finally overcame him, and put him cruelly to death at the gates of Alyä's castle, for her to see.

'It was also then that Alyä's castle came under siege by the bulk of the enemy's forces. The battle was hopeless to begin with, and with the demoralizing blow at the loss of her beloved, Alyä did not put up much of a fight. She wisely sent all her soldiers away into retreat, and withdrew herself into the depths of her castle, never to be seen again.

'Shortly after that, with seemingly no one manning the castle's defenses, the troops of the ancient enemy advanced upon it for what would appear to be an easy victory against an abandoned fortress, its automated defenses the only obstacle to overcome.

'But then something strange happened. No one knows for certain what exactly, for the only information came from the accounts of captured enemy soldiers shocked out of their senses. The generally accepted story is that Alyä's castle, having been overlaid with thousands of layers of enchantments over the eternities that it stood against the enemy, apparently came to life. And in a last act of defiance against those perennial foes, the castle unleashed all of its magic against the tidings of the dark army that was advancing upon it, utterly obliterating the enemy forces before vanishing forever.

'But some others say that it was Alyä herself who, through some strange and selfless ritual, tied her spirit with the castle, becoming one with the colossal structure in order to satiate her unquenchable desire to seek vengeance through all eternity against her beloved's killers.

'Since then, rumors speak of sightings of a giant castle appearing out of nowhere, in the cloudy mists above the horizon, during the most desperate and hopeless battles for the light, and unleashing a mighty rain of holy beams upon the armies of the enemy, instantly turning the tide of battle in the light side's favor.

'And it is this perpetual devotion to a cause that Alyä seemed to have that our people cherished in this tale', Celeste concluded in an admiring voice. 'We were all told of it as hatchlings just out of our eggs. For it sets an example for us to follow, and gives us something to aspire to even as we dedicate our immortal lives to the defense of this world against all external foes for the rest of eternity. A task that sometimes seems long and arduous, even to us.'

'Ah, an interesting and inspiring story indeed, young lady.' Merlin commented. 'Perhaps the Holy crystal was named after the Lady Alyä for these very same reasons, as it would seem that she is a rather popular and venerated character amongst the servants of the righteous.'

'Perhaps…' Celeste said non-committedly. Giving off a huge yawn, Celeste added: 'It's well past midnight, isn't it? I'm getting really tired now…'

Taking the hint, Harry also stated (mostly to the portrait) that he needed to rest now.

'Ah. Have a pleasant night then, my young friends! And remember, not a word about the Holy and Shadow crystals to anyone else, please.' Merlin finished seriously, before leaving the portrait.

'Wow… I'm surprised that he didn't make us take wizard oaths with that kind of information', Harry said to Celeste.

'I think that's probably because he couldn't', Celeste offered sleepily, snuggling into Harry's embrace, settling in for the night. 'He's only a portrait, after all…'

'Yeah… I wonder what the real Merlin was like', Harry lamented. He bent down to give Celeste a kiss, but noticed to his dismay that she was already asleep. Harry joined her soon after in the land of dreams, where, to the new couple's pleasant surprise, they shared a common dream through their link.

**

* * *

A/N**: So? Why did you guys think? I think it must be obvious to you now that Harry will be receiving that Holy shard. But don't worry, there will be a great revelation with his shield too (though much later), which might end up as his ultimate power! And what's with Celeste's story? Here's your clue: Did I mention that I like Final Fantasy? 

Anyhow, please **REVIEW**! Comments on the plausibility of how I hoodwinked Harry into staying to confront Voldemort or opinions on Celeste's tale are most welcome!

Now, onto some review responses (I won't be doing this every chapter, unless you want me to, and let me know in a review :)

**FSl**: Hey, what can I say, besides 'thank you'x1000 :D

**Gaul1**: hope this chapter answers your question…

**Lucifer's Following**: Err… in order of your questions: No, The location of Merlin's Tomb, and No. I think the portrait of Merlin is already doing way too much in this story. I'm not really big on solving all the plot holes with convenient magical 'super wizards' popping out of nowhere and snap their fingers to explain away the problem.

**Jarno**: Yeah. You have a good point with the shield's weakness, but I was reserving that for a plot cliffy later. As for the non-animagus thing, well, I'm sick and tired of Harry and friends having magical and superpowered animal forms that nobody has ever heard of when it clearly states somewhere that animaguses are always non-magical (I forgot where, but I'm pretty sure this fact is canon). So, as you can see, instead of giving them the cliché'ed super-duper-I-can-kill-10000-death-eaters-with-one-swipe-of-my-magical-claw forms, I've decided to give them some unconventional forms, mostly for humor. They will be getting something else later, and in a far less history contradicting way.

**ShadowMagik**: Yeap, it will be. Harry's just starting to learn about his shield, after all. And yes, I have this ultimate power of Harry's right here, in my head. And it's not 'love'! And I thank you for recognizing that animagus forms are just getting ridiculously powerful in most stories now)

**Radzilla**: Yeah, there will be something to make up for Harry not having an animagus form, don't worry!

**Olaf74**: Of course! Proof is right here :)

**Blah29**: Sorry about the power loss, I appreciate you still coming back to write something!

**Adelbrand**: Yes, I'm working really hard to avoid a superpowered Harry that's invicible.

**EsperJones**: Yeah, I'm getting tired of all those Harry is superpowerful wizard stories. I thought I'd make one where he's a bit more canon in terms of power.

And to all you readers who didn't review… Thank you as well. Hope I can get to know what you think of this story one day ;)

If you're still reading… then why not take a few extra seconds and review:P


	18. An Arrival and A Departure

**Chapter 18**

**An Arrival and A Departure**

'Our new aerial squadrons are barely a match against these new dragon riders! They were forced into retreat in over 90 percent of the engagements they had so far. At this rate…' Reported someone in desperation as Dumbledore walked in on the latest meeting of the semi-official war council that have gathered in Britain. Ministers and Law Enforcement Heads from various countries all over the world (those that had not yet fallen under Voldemort's control) were in attendance.

'Their favorite tactic recently is to strap a dementor on top of a dragon, since dragons have enough mental shielding against those horrid creatures. And then have a whole squad like that fly around to sow panic in our ranks', informed another voice. 'So far, it's been working horribly well.'

'Can't the muggles help us?' Asked another voice from the gathered assembly. 'They've got those giant, flying metal birds that look quite impressive, if I may say so myself.'

'Some of us have already explored that option', replied another man in a somewhat accented English. 'Unfortunately, Lord…You-Know-Who has planned this war very well. Too well, judging by his previous record. He had, so far, reigned in his followers and not involved a single muggle in this war. He's trying to make the muggles think that this is just an internal power struggle among us wizards. And most of the muggle leaders are indeed treating this new threat as such. None has accepted to help us thus far.'

'This is an outrage!' Cried someone else. 'They should bend over backwards for us! It's their behinds we're trying to save above all.'

'Ah, but I dare say that with the secretive way most of you have treated your muggle counterparts, I find it quite understandable that the muggles are reluctant to acquiesce to our sudden demand', stated Dumbledore knowingly, as if admonishing children. 'Plus, with Voldemort's recent take-over of several of the magical ministries, he has added political legitimacy to his claims. And with the muggle side of those conquered countries unaffected, it would be hard to convince our own muggle leaders to lend us a helping hand when they seemingly stand to gain nothing and lose much in the ordeal.'

'But surely, the muggles must know that they will be next on You-Know-Who's list if the magical communities were to fall into You-Know-Who's hands?'

'Do they? Do they really?' Dumbledore replied. 'Thanks to the blissful ignorance most of you saw fit to keep your muggle counterparts in over these years, I doubt most of them has even heard of Voldemort until recently. Am I wrong?'

A guilty silence was all the answer he needed.

'Headmaster Dumbledore', began Amelia Bones. 'It'd be easy to play the blame game all day. But I daresay that we should focus our efforts on countering Voldemort's growing menace while we're all assembled. It is, after all, not everyday that 80 ministers of magic are gathered under one roof.'

'Yes… I quite agree, Madam Bones. Forgive my lack of discretion', Dumbledore replied smoothly. 'Now might I be so bold as to inquire about the reason you summoned me here?'

'Yes, actually', Fudge interjected. 'The French Minister of Magic, whose country has borne the blunt of this war, has a suggestion he would like to consult you on.'

'Ah, by all means…' Dumbledore stated, seating down to hear about the French's new proposal.

……………………

'You-Know-Who's coming? Here!' Ron said incredulously as he and Hermione were being informed by Harry about the impending arrival.

'Yes. Merlin just told us last night', Harry replied.

'Us?' Hermione cut in, ever perceptive.

'Well… Celeste and I were… err… having a small chat', Harry replied as smoothly as he could.

'Yes, the important thing here is that Voldemort might be upon as soon', Celeste added quickly, seeing that Hermione was about to say something else.

'Then shouldn't we be leaving?' Ron asked, just a bit scared.

'Alas, we can't', Harry gestured to Celeste and himself. 'There is something here that Merlin wants us to protect still.'

And he promptly explained to Ron and Hermione about what Merlin's portrait said about the Holy and Shadow shards, much to portrait-Merlin's chagrin, as it had hoped to keep that secret… well, secret.

'We're staying here with you!' Hermione said resolutely after being convinced that someone had to stay behind. 'We can help you with our crystals!'

Ron simply nodded emphatically.

'No guys', Harry said, shaking his head. 'Your presence will be felt right away. Merlin told me that Voldemort, with his level of powers, can sense the presence of people around him using a variant of Legitmency. Only practiced Occlumens can hope to conceal their existence from Voldie when he's near you.'

'But you're not a practiced Occlumens either, Harry!' Ron pointed out a bit tactlessly.

'No. But I am', Celeste said. 'Well, that is, I have innate mental shielding abilities. But from what this portrait of master Merlin told me, they are very similar to this Occlumency of yours, so hopefully, I can use our link to shield both Harry and I from Voldemort's senses.'

'Hopefully?' Hermione asked, skeptical.

'Well, there is no way to tell, since none of us are at Voldemort's level when it comes to Legitmency or mental awareness', Harry defended.

'I don't suppose there is a way for us to master Occlumency in the next few days?' Ron asked, knowing the answer.

'Probably not to the level needed to contend with Voldemort', Harry stated.

'Still… I'm worried, Harry. You don't even have a crystal to boost your powers, and Celeste had the weakest compatibility with a crystal out of us three…' Hermione quickly added a 'No offense, Celeste' to the midnight haired girl.

'But she and I are the only ones that can stay here and remain undetected when Voldemort comes', Harry said. 'There is no way around this, Hermione.'

'But… But… We can't just leave and let you confront Voldemort on your own! It's normally suicide to even think of confronting Voldemort, period!' Hermione rambled on, slightly panicked by how logical Harry's argument was. 'Why not leave now and try to steal the Holy shard back from him later?'

'Hermione! We've been through this already! If he gets his hands on the Shadow crystal, there is no way in bloody hell that anyone can even blink near him without him knowing, much less stealing something he will actually try to protect!' Harry replied passionately.

'Then let's just make an open stand then, the four of us!' Ron offered. 'We've all gained some powers with the crystals, and you have that shield of yours. Plus your girlfriend's a giant dragon. We might actually win.'

Here, both Harry and Hermione shook their head, though Hermione decided to not correct her redheaded companion this time.

'We have little hope of winning, Ron. Like Hermione said, it is suicide to confront Voldemort directly', Harry countered. 'And from what Merlin has heard from his contacts from the surface, Voldemort's become even stronger recently.'

'I agree with Harry (very weak snort from Ron). Even a fully grown great dragon might be of little match against this dark lord, especially if he has gained the knowledge of a demon prince, as we suspect he did', Celeste added, an unusually serious tone to her normally innocent voice. 'Our only hope of securing the Holy crystal is to stay hidden from Voldemort until he has breached all of the traps protecting the Twin shards for us. He should be severely weakened by then… Hopefully enough for Harry and I to distract him and steal at least one of the shards away from him.'

'I really don't like this plan… Too many things can go wrong. You will need all the help you can get on this one, Harry', Hermione insisted. 'Can't the wards…'

'The wards can't hide your presence either, Ms. Granger', portrait Merlin decided to interject before the argument degenerate any further. 'There truly is no other way. Should you stay, you'd be more of a hindrance than help to your friends. Now, might I suggest that we make better use of whatever time you have left here than pointless arguing it away?'

Everybody nodded their assent, though it was clear that Hermione and Ron were only grudgingly going along.

………………………

'I am sorry, minister, but I cannot, in all good conscience, go along with your plan', Dumbledore said in a soothing voice to the French Minister of Magic's request. The man sure was persistent, Dumbledore would gave him that much. Unfortunately for him, the man's persistence was currently solely focused against him.

'But zink about the benefits!' The French minister argued. 'It would be a great symbol for ze…'

I'm well aware of your arguments, minister. But I simply cannot allow Hogwarts to be turned into a flying fortress to counter-balance Azkaban!' Dumbledore scoffed slightly, shocked by the ridiculousness of the idea.

'But why not, my dear Dumble D'or?' The French persisted. 'Ogwarts is already on top of a cliff! A few well placed earthquake spells should be able to detach the top of the cliff easily!'

'I already told you, respected minister.' At the awaiting look on the French man's face, Dumbledore let out a deep sigh. He really did have to go through his arguments again: 'Hogwarts castle was not built as a fortress. It does not have the hardened structural excesses that Azkaban has. Its walls are not nearly as thick as Azkaban's, and it has far too many entrances and windows to be defended properly in the event of an attack.'

'Headmaster Dumbledore does have a point… Perhaps it would be best if we find some other, more fortress-like castle for our purposes?' Spoke Amelia Bones. 'What about Beauxbatons? Is it…'

'Non, I'm afraid it is impossible. Le Château des Beaux Batons is like a tent with no flaps next to Ogwarts, when fortifications are concerned. That is why I asked for Ogwarts in the first place', the French minister replied, eyes downcast.

'Then might I suggest something less massive? So long as we'll have a fortified structure…'

And the meeting continued on, with everyone pitching in on possible castles to use in the fight against Voldemort.

……………………

Meanwhile, back deep underground, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Celeste trained fruitfully in various forms of magic under the guidance of Merlin's portrait. For several hours a day, Merlin had the teens concentrating solely on the various spells attuned to the element of his or her crystal. During those hours, as if by common agreement, Merlin would make Harry practice spells focused on Holy magic, the implicit assumption very clear. Harry was not too surprised to find out that half of the spells from that particular branch of magic were focused on some form of healing. He was however, surprised by how well he was doing in them. Obviously, his prowess in the healing arts during his modest 3 week training was no fluke.

During the evenings, the four teens would gather around the giant fireplace of the main hall, sharing their day's ordeals over dinner. Afterwards, Harry and Ron, following the suggestion of Merlin, began to build another flying broom upon which Ron and Hermione can make their escape. During those times, Hermione and Celeste would huddle in a corner and exchange giggly stories about Harry and Ron, and many other things that can only be shared amongst girls.

The gang would gather together again near the end of the night to talk about their next day's plans, before retiring to their respective chambers for a well deserved rest. During those nights, Harry and Celeste often shared a room together, though they never went beyond kissing and cuddling, as the daily training were far too exhausting for either teen to want or even think about much else. Still, Harry found it rather comforting to hold onto Celeste at night, and waking up to what he considered as the most beautiful sight in the morning. Sometimes, he was even pleasantly (though also shamefully) surprised to find, upon waking up, one or both of his hands placed where they should not be, though Celeste never seemed to complain or even notice it.

'What are those?' Ron asked Harry one morning, when he caught Harry practicing with his twin silver guns in the courtyard of the castle.

'Standard 8mm pistols with customized silver finishing, as far as I can tell', Harry replied, expertly shooting at a moving clay golem he had conjured up for target practice, hitting it in the leg and fictional wand arm. Harry didn't think that the fact that the clay golem was only 4 foot tall (the tallest golem he was able to conjure so far!) took any realism away from the exercise.

'Ah yes, the muggles' metal wands. Dad mentioned them quite a few times', Ron replied. 'I didn't know they shoot shining bullets though.' Ron added, seeing how every bullet Harry fired was shining with either a blue or orange aura.

'They normally don't. I've enchanted my bullets with fire and ice to add some extra bite to them', Harry replied, trying to gather enough concentration to conjure up a new golem.

'Oh! So they are like stored fire and ice spells that you can shoot? That's brilliant mate!' Ron said, totally misinterpreting Harry's words.

'No, Ron, they are not spells. I only added some magical residue to the metal bullet for extra…' Harry trailed off, thinking about what Ron just said. 'Hey, actually, storing spells into something so I can fire them later isn't such a bad idea! Though I think I'd have to ask Hermione and Merlin about how to do it with a muggle gun…'

Ron, who was getting a bit confused at this point, simply thought that he should quit while he was ahead: 'Well, you do that then, mate.' He said, giving Harry a condenscending pat on the shoulder. I think I'll go practice some more fire spells, I've really gotten quite good at…'

Ron was abruptly cut off by a giant bolt of lightning arcing horizontally between him and Harry, its sizzling electric tendrils threatening to make contact with the red haired teen. Both boys instinctively jumped away from the blue ray of death just as it struck a tree behind them, setting it ablaze.

'Aquarius!' Hermione's voice was heard as hurried footsteps approached them. Following her incantation, a giant blast of water hurried between the two boys much the same way the lightning bolt had. The jet of water promptly put out the burning tree, uprooting and toppling the hapless growth in the process with its strong blast.

'Oops… Didn't mean to do that…' Hermione said only half-sorriedly as she lowered her wand. 'Are you alright, Ron? Harry?'

Celeste also arrived at that moment, hurrying to Harry's side and asking him the same question.

'Yeah… We're fine', Harry replied for the both of them while getting a nod of confirmation from Ron. 'What was that?'

'Oh err… It's actually partially my fault', Hermione said sheepishly. 'See, I discovered that if I concentrate enough while clutching my crystal, I can actually manipulate the water molecules. So I…'

'Mo-lai-cul?' Asked Ron.

'Oh, it's a muggle thing', Hermione replied dismissively. 'Basically, I know that if I slow down the water molecules enough, then the water should, in theory, turn into ice! And guess what?' Here, Hermione produced a ball of water out of thin air, and clutching her water crystal, soon turned it into a ball of ice. 'I was right!'

'Wow, that's pretty cool, Hermione!' Ron exclaimed. 'But what does that have to do with that lightning bolt that nearly fried me?'

'Ah. That… hahaha…' Hermione laughed nervously before continuing. 'I was sharing my discovery with Celeste, and then I told her about this other muggle science article I read whereby, if she displaces enough electric charge in the air, she might be able to create lightning. Though I'm not sure how all that works myself.'

'Err… That sounds kinda of murky', Harry replied. Turning to his girlfriend, he asked: 'Can you really manipulate your element based on such basic understandings?'

'Well, obviously, she did, since she produced a lightning bolt, didn't she?' Hermione replied testily, scoffing at Harry for calling her understanding _basic_.

'Actually, no', Celeste gave an apologetic look to Hermione. 'I manipulated the air just now based on my own experiences on how to produce lighting. I wasn't really sure how or if it would work… so I was a bit careless with my aim… Sorry.'

'You've produced lightning before?' Asked a puzzled Ron.

'Of course. One of my breath weapons is the lightning bolt', Celeste said as if she was talking about everyday facts. 'It's one of my favorite breaths.'

It took a moment longer for the golden trio to realize what she actually meant.

'Oh! Right! You're a great dragon! And one of your attacks is to spew lightning from your mouth!' Ron stated the now obvious fact in his usual tactless manner.

'That is correct', Celeste replied, not offended.

'Hey, is there anything cool like that I can do with fire?' Ron suddenly asked Hermione.

'Err… None that I can think of…' Hermione replied, a bit ashamed by her lack of knowledge in this domain. 'But I can look it up in the muggle libraries once we get back.'

'Ok, great! Hehe, these crazy muggles, they do come up with the darnest things', Ron said happily. 'When do you think we can go back?'

'Well, for us, it's as soon as Voldemort gets here', Hermione replied, casting a dark look at Harry.

'Hey! It's not that I don't want you here! You're both really powerful right now, probably more than I am. But if you…'Harry replied defensively before being cut off.

'He's here…' came the calm and collected voice of portrait Merlin before the old wizard disappeared from the nearest painting he had just been in.

'Well… speaking of the devil… Literally…' Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. 'Com'on, Ron. Let's go pack.'

And with that, she dragged a somewhat lost Ron back toward the castle.

…………………………

'So it is agreed then', Cornelius Fudge said to another assembly of the allies against Voldemort's frighteningly efficient war machine. 'We will steal five decommissioned battleships from the American mothballed fleet and turn them into airships to combat the growing menace of these dragonflights.'

'I thought all these talks were supposed to be about turning a castle into a flying fortress to counter Azkaban…?' Mad-Eye Moddy whispered to Dumbledore as the two listened in on the meeting.

'Yes, well, sadly, political discussions tend to do that to a topic of conversation: You'd always end up with something different from what you started with', Dumbledore replied. 'At least they've agreed that these airships are only a temporary solution, and will keep on looking for a suitable castle to turn into a flying fortress.'

'That's actually a surprisingly reasonable idea, old friend', Moody replied. 'You had a hand in it?'

'No. It was actually young Ms. Delacour who suggested it to her own minister', Dumbledore replied. 'That girl wasn't a tri-wizard champion for nothing.'

'Ah yes… I suppose. Though one wouldn't think so at first glance…' Moody trailed off.

'She keeps exceeding your expectations of her, isn't she?' Dumbledore replied. 'That just goes to show you that you should never underestimate anyone, my dear friend. What happened to constant vigilance?'

'Hmph!' Was all Moody said.

………………………

Harry and friends were standing at the edge of the island-mountain that overlooked the huge underground lake, the magical daylight above them dimmer than usual in a foreboding reflection of what was to come.

'Promise me you'll come back to us, Harry.' Here, she gave him a stern look full of meaning.

'I promise', Harry replied, giving her a reassuring smile. For some reason, he had a good feeling about the coming encounter, and thus didn't hesitate to make the promise. Turning to Ron, he added: 'So you sure you will be ok, mate? Merlin said that if you fly straight at that light up there…'

'Yes, yes. I should be able to come out of an active volcano in Antarctica. Don't worry, I was listening', Ron finished for him. 'You should be more worried about yourself, mate. Going up toe to toe against V… You- Know-Who!'

'More like toe-to-heel, so don't worry', Celeste replied cryptically.

'huh?'

'Well… toe-to-toe would imply that we'll be facing him, no? But we really are just going to sneak behind his back most of the time, hence toe-to-heel, you know.' Celeste explained even more cryptically. Only Hermione seemed to have understood.

'Yes, anyway. Take care, Harry', Ron gave Harry a manly hug before nodding a manly farewell at Celeste. Hermione gave Harry a far more intimate hug, having already done so with Celeste a bit earlier.

'See you up there…' Hermione said before turning to Ron and the newly built flying broom with some apprehension. 'Alright Ron, how do you think I should mount your broom?'

Ron, who's mind, like most boys' his age, decided to totally misinterpret that sentence, could only mumble a shy: 'Err…' while blushing noticeably.

'Oh for Merlin's sake, Ron. Get you're mind out of the gutter! We're about to be attacked by Voldemort! And all you can think of is…'

Harry decided to blissfully tune them out at that point by holding a silent conversation with Celeste over their plans for the coming confrontation.

Finally, after half and hour and much bickering, a repeat of the farewells was said, and Ron and Hermione rode the new flying broom into the skies for good.

…………………

Voldemort approached the island castle with an almost cheerful eagerness. After all, he was about to gain the power to rule the world forevermore, regardless of how strong his enemies could be.

The little pesky bird-shaped knives and the acid rain didn't even make a dent against the mighty shield he had erected around himself. He had been caught slightly off guard by the share size of the monstrous hydra that jetted out from the lake, but it too, was no match for the greatest of dark lords, and soon crumbled in a giant splash back into the lake, dead.

Voldemort landed in the courtyard of the castle, a slight smirk on his face. He had to admit, these defenses would have been fairly adequate against anyone else but him. The dark lord strode confidently toward the front door of the keep, lazily twirling his wand as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Harry and Celeste silently observed the dark lord from the hidden confines of the ceiling of the main hall of the castle, Celeste using her inborn dragon abilities to shield them both from the mental senses of Voldemort.

'Lord Voldemort. I've been expecting you', came an ethereal voice from the general direction of the large painting of a bearded old man on the far wall.

'Ah, my reputation precedes me, I see', Voldemort answered in a cocky voice. He was just way to happy about the artifact he will soon obtain.

'Yes, indeed. So then, I'm sure you'll understand if I do this', Merlin spoke as every single of the multicolored torches that lined the wall discharged forth their respective attacks. Soon, bolts of lightning, jets of fire, shards of ice, beams of godly light and many other types of magic, as well as a multitude of spears, arrows, saw-discs and drilling heads flew across the cavernous hall of Merlin's Tomb castle, all homing in toward the unwelcome intruder.

Voldemort simply stood there, erecting a shield that blocked all attacks. The dark lord was confident that his powers were more than a match for these fourteen hundred years old spells. But little did he know that Merlin had empowered the defenses in his castle with the far stronger magic of the Holy crystal. And so, it was with a sweaty frown that the dark lord, for the first time, became concerned of his success in his mission.

'Enough of this!' Voldemort yelled with a strained voice. And with a great explosion, the entire great hall of the castle was blasted into rubble, every single torch along the wall smashed into bits. Fortunately for the hidden Harry and Celeste, the roof of the fortress relied far more on the undamaged castle towers for support than on the walls of the hall itself.

'Not bad, Merlin, for a dead man', Voldemort said panting, looking at the somehow undamaged painting of Merlin that now rested amidst rocky ruins of the wall it had previously been hung against.

'Why, thank you, Lord Voldemort. I must admit, I'm impressed by your powers as well. No living being of this world could have withstood that barrage', Merlin replied, a grudging respect for the dark creature before him.

Voldemort decided to cackle evilly in his patented laugh at this. 'Very observant, Merlin. I have gained knowledge from far beyond this world. Knowledge that grants me power that you can't possibly imagine!' The dark lord hissed happily.

'Hmm… Perhaps. But that is all you have, knowledge. No matter how hard you try, you cannot possibly twist your human body to fully wield such unworldly powers', Merlin's portrait countered. 'Even now, I can see that you are at the limit of what you can handle.'

'Yes. And that is why I'm here, as you well know, old man. Where is the Shadow crystal? With it, I can shed the limitations of this weak body and fashion a new and far more powerful one for myself', Voldemort explained.

'Did you seriously believe that I'd tell you, especially after you just explained to me what you want to use it for?'

'No, dear Merlin. I expected that you won't', Voldemort smirked in a sinister voice, raising his wand toward the portrait.

'Ah, round two, I suppose', Merlin's portrait said calmly as half a dozen golems made out of the destroyed pieces of the castle walls sprang into being, advancing menacingly upon the dark lord.

'Hahahahaha! Two can play this game!' Voldemort hissed angrily as he waved his own wand, and two giant golems, also made from the rocky debris of the castle walls, stood into existence, towering twice as high above Merlin's golems.

A short combat later, Voldemort's golems had given a convincing answer to the age old debate of quality vs. quantity, triumphing easily against their smaller counterparts.

'Any more tricks, old man?' Voldemort taunted the portrait as his two giant golems came to stand guard beside him.

'Alas, not from here', the portrait sighed. Most of the defenses his living self had set up in the castle were destroyed along with the walls of the castle, the dark lord's rather clumsy and yet effective magical explosion having unknowingly spared Voldemort a lot of extra work.

'Then perhaps, it is time you tell me where the Twin Shards are', Voldemort hissed menacingly, wand raised.

'I guess there is no reason why I shouldn't', the portrait replied non-chalantly despite the loss of most of its defenses. 'You will eventually find the entrance on your own anyway. I suppose that sending you in now, while you are still a bit weak from my earlier attacks might be to my advantage.'

'Enough stalling, Merlin. The location, if you please', Voldemort said.

The portrait simply sighed, and with a small gesture, a great pillar of light erupted from directly beneath the dark lord, engulfing Voldemort and his two giant golems in a dazzling eruption of holy magic unseen for countless generations. After a lengthy moment that would have assured the destruction of all but the evilest of creatures, the holy light dimmed, replaced almost immediately by a shower of dark magic of equal magnitude, as if all the holy energy that had just been spew up were now raining back down, though twisted into its sinister counterpart.

When the unholy rain finally ceased, no trace of the two giant golems could be found, and a large, cylindrical hole, covering the exact area the initial pillar of light had erupted from, was now melted through the ground, stretching into the unseen depths.

Unfortunately for Harry and friends, Voldemort had somehow managed to survive the last attack, and was now eerily floating in the center of the circular hole that had opened beneath him. However, the dark lord seemed far worse for wear than before he had been before the attack: His cloak, once dark and imposing, was now scorched through in places, and shredded at its ends. And even his hands, once of a ghostly white, now appeared to have been blackened by some burn. Also, the dark lord was no longer standing proud and upright as he had before the attack, and was now slightly slouched, as if exhausted from some great physical ordeal.

'That was… Impressive', Voldemort admitted sinisterly to the portrait, his wand pointed directly at it. 'But I'm afraid that it wasn't enough. Avada Kedavra!'

The portrait of Merlin appeared briefly surprised before the painting turned into ash in a pouf of fire, its once golden and intricately carved frame melting slightly from the backlash of the Killing curse.

Voldemort simply cackled insanely as he let himself drop down into the cavernous depths where the mighty shards' rested, a host of defensive magic awaiting his approach.

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A/N**: Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter. Look for the next chapter to come out sometime next week, as I really want to write about Harry and Voldemort's confrontation! Anyhow, your comments and reviews are always appreciated. 

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**REVIEW**!


	19. Fight and Flight

**A/N:** Sorry that it took me 7 months to update. I had suffered through some serious problems in my personal life. This chapter was mostly written before all those problems started, so I'm putting it up. Updates might be more regular from now on, as I will now have more free time on my hands.

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Chapter 19 **

**Fight and Flight**

Harry and Celeste watched, stunned, as Voldemort survived through two extremely strong blasts of what could only be described as pure magical energy. Even from their vantage point at a fair distance away, the couple could feel the heat of the holy pillar of light burning away at their skin, and, subsequently, the freezing cold of the unholy rain that chilled more than their bones.

And yet, somehow, Voldemort had survived through.

Harry and Celeste then looked on with resigned indifference as Voldemort sent the Killing curse at the giant portrait of Merlin, causing the canvas to instantaneously combust, its habitant having had no time to escape away.

'I told him Voldemort would do that', Harry said, not sure if he should feel sad that a portrait of a dead man just got 'killed'.

'I know Harry', Celeste whispered to her beloved in a soothing tone. Knowing how he likes to blame himself for everything, she added: 'I think that particular portrait of Master Merlin chose to be destroyed, knowing that its purpose as guardian of this tomb was coming to an end. You need not to blame yourself.'

'Yeah, that's true. I really should stop blaming myself for Voldemort's sins, shouldn't I?' Harry said as he got up from his hiding spot. 'Com'on. We've got to follow him down.' Harry added, pointing to the giant hole into which Voldemort had plunged some time earlier.

'Looks like a deep drop…' Harry said quietly, looking down the hole and not seeing the bottom.

'I think I might fit in there…' Celeste suggested pensively, about to jump in after Voldemort. It took a moment for Harry to realize what she meant.

'Celeste, wait!' Harry hurriedly held on to the girl's arm. 'Let's wait a bit more. We should give Voldemort enough time to deal with all the traps that might be at the bottom first!'

'Yeah, why didn't I think of that?' Celeste pouted, her lips bulging outwards in a most sweet and innocent expression.

Despite the situation he was in, Harry couldn't help but find Celeste irresistibly desirable at that moment. He found himself boldly kissing those still sulking lips a moment later.

'What was that for?' Celeste asked after the two pulled away.

'Well, your lips just looked so tempting…' Harry explained a bit shyly, though still appearing very comfortable with the action he had just posed. 'You reckon we can go down now?'

'Yes, let's', Celeste replied, starting to take off her clothes in order to transform herself.

'Um... Celeste, how about we just use the hovering charm on the other person? We can levitate each other all the way down' Harry suggested, not to keen on having a naked, or at most barely clad Celeste with Voldemort close by.

'Sure. It's Wingardium Levioso, right?' Celeste replied, pulling out a real wand she had been practicing with for the past few days.

'Err… Leviosa, actually… You sure you got this charm down?' Harry asked, not so sure about his own suggestion anymore. After all, if Celeste got it wrong, he'd be in for a pretty nasty fall…

'Of course Harry. Don't you trust me?' Celeste asked, staring at him with her crystal blue puppy dog eyes, almost a hint of hurt in them.

'No, it's not that… I…'

'Ok, off we go then!' Celeste replied happily as she dragged a shocked Harry into the seemingly bottomless hole… without having cast the charm first…

………………………

'You DID cast a fire shield over us, right?' Hermione asked as the two flew through a jagged tunnel, heading in some unknown direction.

'What? I thought you did! I'm the one flying!' Ron yelled back indignantly from behind her.

'Oh Ron, honestly, why is it always me who have to do everyth…AAAARGH!' Hermione yelled in panic as Ron swerved abruptly to avoid a giant geyser of red hot magma that suddenly burst forth from the tunnel's walls. She quickly pulled out her wand and murmured the incantation for the first anti-fire charm that came to her mind.

'Can't you go any faster? I don't think being submerged in lava is such a good idea', Hermione said to Ron as the magma in the tunnel slowly formed into a river… that's moving upwards.

'I'm going as fast as I can!' Ron replied just as the two burst into the main chimney of a Volcano, its mouth high above them.

'Up there, Ron! Go! Quick!'

'I see it! And stop shaking the broom! I'm the one flying!' Ron replied as he pulled the broom into a vertical climb and shot up like a rocket. Not a moment too soon, as the magma beneath them also chose that instant to shoot up like an even faster rocket.

'Hahahaha, hahaha, Her…Hahaha. Hermione. Please tell me you hahaha… you didn't cast the shield with that tickling side effect!' Ron said through howls of laughter as the liquid inferno engulfed him, tickling him like he was a 4 year old.

……………………

'I have to admit, that was pretty fun', Harry said as the two landed into a devastated area at the bottom of the hole, having cast the levitation charm on each other pretty much at the last minute. 'Great thinking throwing a glow orb in front of us, by the way. We certainly wouldn't have seen the ground coming up otherwise.'

'I'm glad you liked it', Celeste said happily. 'Freefalling is one of my favorite activities when I fly.'

'Yeah, mine too', Harry replied more seriously. 'Now where did that old snake face go? Lumos!'

Looking around, the couple saw a pair of destroyed stony statues, an angel and a demon, around a thick, cracked door that was hanging by the barest of its hinges.

'Look at these statues. No sane artist would ever craft a statue in that pose…' Harry said, pointing his wand closer to the broken stones.

'They must have been animated statues then, and got stuck in those positions when Voldemort cut them down', Celeste suggested. 'You'd better put that light out, Harry. It might give us away.'

After doing just that, Harry and Celeste went through the broken doorway, following the path of destruction that Voldemort had wrought against the protections of the Shards. Most of the time, they'd come upon traps that were already utterly destroyed by the dark lord, while other times, they had to wade their own way through a series of obstacles that Voldemort had simply circumvented or walked straight through with ease.

'Hmm… Another 3D maze… This one looks huge!' Harry mumbled, slightly impressed as he and Celeste came upon another obstacle in the long chain.

'No time to go through it, Harry. Let's just follow these giant holes that Voldemort blew through the maze', Celeste urged, dragging Harry in front of a path through the complex 3D maze that consisted mostly of man sized holes that someone had obviously blown in a direct line toward the Maze's other end.

'Well, Voldemort sure isn't one for fineness', Harry remarked as the two walked in.

………………………

'It's BLOODY COLD!' Ron yelled as the pair flew across an endless expanse of ice and snow, trying to put as much distance as possible between them and the raging Volcano behind them. 'Good thing it's the summer, who knows how cold it'd be in the winter…'

'Err…. Ron. We are near the South Pole. It's actually winter for this part of the world. In fact, at this point in the year, Antarctica is plunged in total darkness day and night.' Hermione replied bookishly. 'Now let's get out of here before we freeze to death.'

'Alright. Let's apparate to London then. Ready?' Ron asked as he slowed down and lowered the broom close to the ground, just in case something went wrong with the apparition.

'Ron! Think! Even Dumbledore can't apparate that far at once!' Hermione chastised. 'We need to make a series of apparitions across Africa and Europe so we don't exhaust ourselves.'

'But, Hermione! We don't know any place in Africa!' Ron said, a bit panicked.

'No. I do. I'll apparate us both. First stop: South Africa!' Hermione said excitedly. 'Hold on tightly to me, Ron.'

Ron enthusiastically complied, his usual instinct to disobey Hermione's snappish orders having mysteriously vanished for that particular command. With a loud pop that sent cracks through the ice below them, the two disapparated from the cold and dead land, the fiery volcano behind them sending off a huge explosion of lava in salute.

………………………

'Reducto!' Harry yelled as he tried to blast the shining ethereal creature away from him. His spell passed right through and almost hit Celeste in the back.

'It's no use, Harry. Our spells can't connect.' Celeste yelled from her own dance with a shadowy, wraithlike creature.

'There must be a fairly simple spell to get rid of them! Voldemort passed through here without even bothering to take these creatures out' Harry shouted back as he dodged a giant swipe from the glowing white creature before him. Harry noted with some discomfort that anything the creature touched tend to crumble into ash.

Harry decided to send one of his newly learned Holy spells at the shining form in front of him. Predictably, it passed right through. However, his spell made a glancing hit against the shadowy creature that was about to turn Celeste into decayed flesh, prompting the creature to howl in pain. Realizing their weakness, Harry eagerly sent the darkest spell he could think of against the light being that was advancing on him.

'Avada Kedavra!' Harry yelled, not sure if he could cast the curse properly. But since his assailant was now fleeing away from him whilst whimpering in pain, Harry figured he did well enough. A thought that wasn't exactly comforting.

'Expecto Patronum!' Harry cast his Patronus to drive away the shadow that was still harassing Celeste.

'Thanks Harry. I didn't really know any holy spells myself', Celeste said gratefully. 'How do you think Voldemort managed to deal with the shadow creature? He obviously had to cast some type of holy magic to have driven it away and passed through…'

'I am not sure', Harry replied resolutely as the two walked through a destroyed door that the dark lord had blown apart some time earlier. 'But just because Voldemort does not like the light arts, I don't think we should automatically assume that he cannot perform any.'

'True, true… I wonder how far we have to go, still.' Celeste mused as they walked across a patch of solid ground that someone had conjured on top of an entire quicksand like hallway.

'I don't think it's much further… The path we went through seemed to have leveled off for a wh…' Harry was cut off as a giant ball of white light crashed against the doorway he and Celeste was about to walk through. Part of the fiery attack squeezed through the large opening and would have splashed against the two teens dead on had Celeste not erected a quick physical barrier in front of them.

Looking through the blackened doorframe, the two saw a giant, dragon like creature hovering in the air, at the far side of what appeared to be a bottomless chasm that stretched into darkness on all directions. The gap between the two cliff walls of the fissure was as large as a football field. No bridge could be seen. Looking at the creature closely, Harry noted that it seemed to have two heads, one was majestically white and the other, sinisterly black. But the two heads seemed to be complementing one another rather well.

'How did Voldemort get past this and still leave the beast intact?' Harry wondered out loud. Walking forward again, Harry said: 'Maybe we can reason with…'

A quick dash backwards was all that saved him from a most painful death, if the acid-like dark goo that was now eating through the floor was any indication. Harry noted that this time, the attack came from the blackened head.

'I'll take care of this', Celeste replied confidently. Stripping down right in front of Harry, and handing him her clothes, she added: 'Here, hold these for me.'

Celeste then walked up to Harry and gently placed a kiss on his cheek. 'Wish me luck', Celeste said as she walked away form him with a fairly out of place innocent smile.

Harry felt his cheeks burning red hot, and was too busy avoiding to look at Celeste's naked form to realize that he should probably stop her from whatever she was planning.

And without any more words, Celeste rushed through the now melting doorframe and jumped into the bottomless canyon.

'Celeste!' Harry finally just processed what his eyes were seeing, though his brain didn't catch on quick enough to let him know what Celeste was doing. All he saw was the girl he loved, in all her naked glory, plunging into a bottomless pit. He reflexively rushed after her.

Just as he was about to lean over the edge of the ravine and peer down, a blinding flash of light came up from beneath, and, a moment later, the enormous and yet graceful form of a silvery dragon rushed up past him, its maw already crackling with the foreboding sounds of a lightning attack.

The two headed creature seemed to hesitate for a moment, it probably had never been dwarfed by another flying creature before. This was all the opening Celeste needed to send an immense bolt of lightning toward the creature, charring its skin and burning many severe wounds upon its body. The lightning bolt was so intense that a few tendrils made it all the way next to Harry, and blasted loose a few rocks that promptly fell into the infinite void below.

The creature, though severely wounded, seemed to be totally oblivious to the pain it must be feeling, and defiantly sent back a twin barrage of its own attacks, the fiery ball of light flying alongside a sickeningly black ball of acid.

'Celeste!' Harry cried out in alarm as he saw that she was caught unprepared and could not dodge in time. But at the last instant, Celeste shimmered back into her human form in mid-air, letting the two attacks harmlessly overshoot her now much smaller body. As soon as the danger had passed, she transformed back into her dragon form and promptly fried the now shocked and tired creature into oblivion.

'Wow! That was something.' Harry praised to the silvery dragon that was now hovering steadily in front of him.

'Hey what are you dooooooinnnng!' Harry yelled out as Celeste, having not bothered to inform him of her intentions, grabbed him with her giant claws and lifted him to the other side of the crevasse.

'Ah ha! Now what are you going to do?' Harry said with a teasing bitterness in his voice as he saw that there was no place big enough for Celeste to land. In response, the enormous dragon simply flew directly over him once more and, through a blinding flash, turned into an entirely unclothed young girl. Harry reflexively caught her as she fell into his arms.

'Thanks for catching me' Celeste said as she gave Harry another kiss on the cheek. 'I'm sorry about not warning you before I grabbed you and all… I tend to think a bit differently when I'm in my dragon form.'

Harry could only blush, resolutely trying to keep his gaze locked with Celeste's, his fingers itching to caress the soft and lovely skin of the naked body that he was holding.

'Um… here are your clothes…' Harry said shyly as he put Celeste down brusquely and quickly turning away, hoping she hadn't noticed the bulge in his pants.

……………………

'So this is Egypt…' Hermione asked needlessly as she gazed at the pyramids in the far distance below her. They were still sitting together on their handmade broom, flying high in the skies and disillusioned to avoid unwanted attention.

'Yeap, good thing me and my family came here before. I certainly wouldn't have been able to apparate all the way back to London from South Africa', Ron added. 'I'm feeling already really tired as it is.'

'Do you think you can make it all the way to London from here?' Hermione asked. 'I'm pretty tired too. I don't think I can apparate you with me all the way to London.'

'No I doubt I can… I'm not as good as you are at apparating, Hermione.' Ron stated.

'How about I apparate us to Bulgaria then? That's a little less than half way to London. Hopefully, that's close enough for you to apparate back home?' Hermione offered.

'Bulgaria? What were you doing in… Krum!' Ron said, now a bit angry. 'When did you go to Bul…'

But Hermione, sensing a giant argument coming that she might actually lose, decided to cut his tirade short by going through with the apparition without warning. With a pop, the two vanished from the sandy deserts of Egypt…

…Only to reappear high above a full fledged magical battle, a great Romanian Longhorn heading straight at them, seemingly hoping to impale them both on its golden horn.

…………………

'This must be it', whispered Harry to Celeste as the two carefully approached an intricately built doorway adorned by eerie runic symbols. Despite the runic protection, this door, like all the others they came across before it, had also been blasted apart by Voldemort.

'I can hear battle noises…' Celeste whispered back. 'Do you think Voldemort is dueling it out with that last guardian Merlin mentioned?'

'Let's go in and see', Harry replied simply, advancing into the room.

The pair quietly stepped in, and came upon the two combatants, still fighting fiercely in a once magnificent room that was now all but destroyed. Harry was surprised to recognize both fighters. One was his arch-nemesis, the dark lord Voldemort. The other wizard was none other than Merlin himself, his eyes glowing with an unnatural grey aura, two pyramidal shards that were firmly locked together hanging tightly around his neck.

Celeste was surprised to recognize Merlin as well, and was about to naively walk in on the combat and offer her assistance when Harry stopped her.

'Celeste, wait', Harry cautioned.

'Why, Harry? Master Merlin obviously needs our help. He seems to be fighting the dark lord to a draw at the moment', Celeste stated.

'I don't think that's Merlin', Harry whispered back. 'At least, not like we know him…'

'Huh, what makes you say that?'

'Look at him, Celeste… Look carefully… I don't think he's alive.' Harry stated dramatically.

Celeste decided to heed Harry's advice, and observed that indeed, the Merlin that was fighting against Voldemort seemed to be lifeless, with soulless eyes simply staring straight ahead rather than focused on Voldemort, and with its movements awkwardly choppy, much like that of a wooden puppet.

'Oh my… What is manipulating him?' Celeste asked, shocked. 'Who would desecrate Master Merlin's body like that?'

'I think it was Merlin himself', Harry said assuredly.

'What do you mean, Harry?' Celeste asked in that polite manner of hers.

'Well, it would seem that Merlin, knowing that the shards would never be safe and people might come to take them away for various reasons, had decided to create an ultimate guardian with the greatest magic creature of his time: himself', Harry explained, as if reading from a book. 'He used a considerable combination of light and dark magics, cast to revive himself after his death, so that his body can protect the shards unto the end of time. It will only give the Holy shard to the person with the right password, and deal out death to anyone else.'

'Huh?' Celeste stared at him wide-eyed. 'You deduced all that just by looking at Master Merlin's body?'

'Err… no', Harry admitted, pointing to the wall next to him. 'It's all engraved right here on this block of stone next to the doorway. Well, let's go get the Holy shard, shall we?'

'Shouldn't we wait a bit more and see if the guardian can actually defeat Voldemort?' Celeste asked.

'Yes… That'd actually be a more logical thing to do… What was I thinking?' Harry wondered.

Celeste, who had some choice replies in mind, simply ran her hand affectionately through his hair and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

'Let's just wait.' Celeste said snuggling closer to Harry, settling in for what might be a long wait.

……………………………

'AAAAAAAAHHHHH!' Ron and Hermione cried in unison as the Romanian Longhorn was about to ram into them. Ron had enough sense to pull on his broom at the last minute, avoiding most of the fiery dragon's body. They still got clipped by the dragon's tail, and were sent into an uncontrollable spin. The longhorn, having overshot its target, unfolded its wings to stop itself and turned around as Ron struggled to stabilize himself and Hermione.

The dragon tilted its head back and, just as Ron finally managed to pull out of the crazy spin he and Hermione were sent in, shot forth a great cloud of fire at the pair. The young teens saw the flames coming out of the corner of their eyes, and both knew that they were doomed, as there was not nearly enough time to pull out their wand and utter the proper incantation for any type of fire protection.

Bracing himself, Ron spun the broom around so that he'd take the blunt of the inferno, hoping to shield Hermione from harm with his body. Hermione realized what Ron was doing just as the flames engulfed them.

'Ron?' Hermione asked as the cloud of fire passed. She dared not look behind her, afraid of what she'd see.

'I'm… actually fine', Ron's strong and incredulous voice came behind her. 'I'm more than fine, actually. I feel bloody brilliant!'

Hermione spun her head around as much as she could and saw that indeed, her friend was looking more energetic than he had been just a moment ago.

Meanwhile, the Longhorn was charging up for another attack.

'Let's get out of here!' Ron said hurriedly, seeing the oncoming assault. Without waiting for Hermione's reply, he apparated them both to the skies above Hogsmeade.

………………………

Harry and Celeste watched as Voldemort and the animated body of Merlin dueled within the circular chamber where Merlin's body must have rested up till now. A raised dais the size of a bed in the middle of the room seemed to confirm that theory. The room was barren from any fancy decors or lavish wall patterns, Merlin having anticipated that a great and destructive duel would eventually take place within.

Harry watched as Voldemort sent a jet of crackling darkness at the guardian that was once Merlin. The darkness expanded like a net upon a hopeless prey, about to ensnare the guardian. But the body of Merlin simply raised a glowing shield, and like light shining on shadow, the dark cloud simply faded out of existence.

Pressing the attack, the guardian launched a swarm of ice shards from its own wand. The shards suddenly split into 5 different groups, each heading into a different direction to eventually converge back upon the dark lord, assailing him from left, right, front, back, and up. Only the solid stone beneath Voldemort's feet spared him from an attack from that direction.

Having no other choice, Voldemort raised a powerful shield against the coming onslaught. The ice shards impacted upon his invisible bubble of protection, outlining the shield completely by shattering against the magic. Voldemort managed to hold on, and finally launched another attack of his own, the unblockable Killing curse. The spell made a direct hit with the guardian, but had no effect upon the already soulless body of Merlin. Voldemort cursed his own stupidity, as he had also realized by now that the thing in front of him was but a hollow, soulless shell of the great wizard of legends, animated and sustained by the magic of the shards to fight against any intruders. And he knew enough about the dark arts to know that the Killing curse was designed to separate a soul from its body. In this case, he had wasted what precious chance of attack he had by casting an entirely useless spell.

The two dueled on, Voldemort being pressed to stay on the defensive as the limitless magic of the Twin shards powered the attacks of the guardian. Harry and Celeste also watched on, mesmerized, from the entrance, the most potent and powerful spells known and lost to the wizarding world being cast right in front of their eyes.

After a very long time, Celeste noticed something odd in the way the guardian was fighting.

'Harry. Do you notice something strange in the spells cast by Merlin?' Celeste voiced her uneasy feeling.

'Yes… That… thing seems to be cycling through a group of spells in the exact same order each time', Harry replied, refusing to refer to the guardian by the name of 'Merlin'.

'Isn't that really bad? Voldemort can easily predict his next move if he notices it', Celeste asked.

'I think Voldemort already noticed. He's been casting the counter to the guardian's next spell well beforehand for quite a while now', Harry said. 'It is just that the spells are so powerful and ordered in such a way that Voldemort has no choice but to defend himself in the most disadvantageous way possible and is given little time to counter-attack.'

'Hmm…' Celeste thought about this for a bit. 'Let's just hope Voldemort doesn't figure a way out of this before he gets too exhausted to defend himself.'

But her wish was not to be as Voldemort took advantage of one of the rare counter-attack opportunities he had and promptly summoned in two giant suits of armor, twin gleaming green eyes shining through a black misty body.

'Those are Tear Guards from the Fissure!' Celeste gasped. 'This is all the evidence I needed to confirm that he has powers he's not supposed to have!'

'Yes, well, he's about to lay his hands on even more power, so I think we should worry about that first', Harry replied. Inside the circular room, the guardian had just cast the ice shards at Voldemort again. The two giant suits of armor promptly stepped up to the left of Voldemort and shielded the dark lord from any attack on that side. Voldemort, having sidestepped away from the other ice shards that were converging on his previous position, promptly cast a powerful explosion at the floor in front of the guardian, knowing full well that a direct hit on the body of Merlin would simply be absorbed by an impenetrateable shield.

The guardian, who was not expecting his opponent to be able to retaliate so soon, was caught in the middle of casting another complex spell, and wasn't able to avoid the explosion that sent him flying into the air. The guardian landed just across the entrance, where Harry and Celeste were still hiding.

'I'll distract Voldemort, Harry. You try to get the shard from Mer… the guardian', Celeste said as she rushed into what was left of the circular room, against an advancing dark lord.

'I seek to save the Jewel of Alyä!' Harry yelled out hurriedly at the slowly recuperating automaton, not relishing the thought of Celeste confronting Voldemort alone. In the next room, Harry could hear Voldemort and Celeste exchange 'pleasantries' about Celeste's presence all the way down here.

_Smart girl. She's delaying having to duel him by keep him distracted with her talk_, Harry thought. He was almost startled out of his musings when the cold, dead hands of Merlin pressed a sharp object into his left hand. Looking down, Harry was almost blinded by the brilliant shine that came from his outstretched palm. As the light dimmed, Harry saw that the object is no other than the Holy shard, still shining brilliantly in his hand. Harry was almost mesmerized by the beauty of the crystal and was only pulled out of his admiration of the jewel when a shout of _Avada Kedavra_ could be heard coming from the next room. A massive explosion was immediately heard after it as the battered and bloody form of Celeste came crashing through the wall behind which Harry was hiding, falling limply into his arms amidst a shower of jagged debris.

Harry could feel his own body weakening as his life-force link with Celeste tried to compensate for the injuries Celeste had just sustained. Checking her over, Harry quickly cast a powerful healing spell at the girl he loved, and was surprised to see Celeste's wounds fading almost instantly from her body. A warm sensation from the Holy shard enclosed within his left fist was all the explanation he needed for this sudden jump in his healing power.

'Potter!' The familiar hiss behind him informed Harry that he had just been recognized. 'I should have known you weren't truly dead! But Let me rectify that right now. Avada Ke…'

But Harry, who had anticipated such a predictable move, drew one of his twin silver pistols with his right hand (his left still holding on to the Holy crystal) in the blink of an eye and fired twice in rapid succession before rolling to his left, hoping to draw the dark lord's attention away from a still unconscious Celeste. Voldemort, who was not expecting to see such a muggle weapon all the way down in one of the greatest epicenters of magic on Earth, was entirely caught off guard and received the bullets straight in the chest and wand arm.

But, living up to his reputation, Voldemort did not succumb so easily. The insane amount of dark rituals his body had undergone allowed him to be almost impervious to physical harm. The bullet that had hit Voldemort's chest simply fell to the ground, as if having ran into a solid wall. However, the dark lord's arm, having not received as much attention during his dark rituals, was easily pierced through by the bullet sent that way.

But, with a wide-eyed Harry staring on in horror, the arm healed back together in a matter of seconds. With an almost human smirk at the Boy-Who-Lived, Voldemort simply bent down to pick up his wand again.

'Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Tempus Diffendo!' Harry cast in quick succession. Voldemort simply shrugged off the first two spells, as if such simply hexes were below him, and lazily put up a simple shield that absorbed the rain of razor sharp magical needles from Harry's third spell.

'Harry, Harry, Harry. Far greater wizards than you have tried to kill me and failed. Surely, you did not think you stand a chance against me?' Voldemort asked, as if amused.

'Well… What do you expect me to do? Roll over and die?' Harry retorted back as he retrieved his disc like magical shield from his back and placing it on guard. Harry wasn't really sure what else he could do, and hoped to keep the conversation going as long as possible. For deep down, Harry knew that he was no match against Voldemort in a direct duel.

'What is this? A shield? Hmm… It looks strangely familiar. I wonder what it can do. Crucio!' Voldemort mused as he sent the pain curse directly at the shield. Harry simply let the shield absorb the oncoming magic, deciding that it was far more advantageous to take this opportunity to send a counter attack of his own.

'Sanctus ultio ultionis!' Harry muttered the complex holy spell, his wand arm outstretched. He suddenly felt a huge wave of energy entering his body from his left hand and coursing through all the way to his right, where a giant blast of light shot forth from his wand, taking the form of a magnificent hammer of pure radiance being hurled straight at Voldemort.

The dark lord was not about to be caught off guard twice, and promptly used his own brand of magic to raise a shield in front of him. The light hammer struck the shield with a shattering sound, and Voldemort was blown backwards by the shockwave of the explosion.

'What sorcery is this?' Voldemort hissed, staggering back into a dueling stance. And for the first time in his life, Harry heard the hint of a specific fear in the dark lord's voice. Fear of him, Harry. Then, Harry realized that he had just beaten Voldemort on at head to head clash of magical strength. Granted, Voldemort was exhausted from the sheer number of traps and fights he had endured to get down here, and Harry had the power of the Holy shard at his disposal, but a victory was still a victory.

'It is a power you could never hope to wield, Voldemort!' Harry replied resolutely, his wand at the ready. _Perhaps this was the power the Prophecy was talking about?_ Harry thought. _Perhaps my fated hour has come, and this will be the decisive duel that will determine which one of us will go on living?_

'I grow tired of your childish insolence', Voldemort stated with some annoyance. He started to slowly circle around Harry, seizing him up for the first time the way one would do a worthy opponent before a battle to the death. 'DIE!'

And with that, Harry and Voldemort each launched their own spells.

The duel has begun.

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**A/N:** Yeah, a bit of a lame ending, but I really have to cut it off here, as this chapter is getting too long and I don't want end at the cliffhanger I originally planned for this. It'd be too cruel :P

Please Review! Take 1 min and will really encourage me to get back to regular updates :)And let me know if you like where this fic is going and such!


	20. The Fated Hour

**A/N**: To my previous readers: I've had a very personal event happening in my life for the past year, it affected me greatly, on my priorities, moods, and such. Even now I do not know if I can find enough time to keep at this. I apologize for the wait. I would like to thank you for still have enough interest to read this, since this note is adressed to my previous readers and all :P

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**Chapter 20**

**The Fated Hour**

'It is a power you could never hope to wield, Voldemort!' Harry replied resolutely, his wand at the ready. _Perhaps this was the power the Prophecy was talking about?_ Harry thought. _Perhaps my fated hour has come, and this will be the decisive duel that will determine which one of us will go on living?_

'I grow tired of your childish insolence', Voldemort stated with some annoyance. He started to slowly circle around Harry, seizing him up for the first time the way one would do a worthy opponent before a battle to the death. 'DIE!'

And with that, Harry and Voldemort each launched their own spells.

The duel has begun.

…………………………..

Ron and Hermione apparated above the once peaceful village of Hogsmeade and promptly got caught in another aerial battle, the scale and fierceness of which far surpassed the one they had just left behind. As nobody seemed to have targeted them as of yet, Ron and Hermione did a quick survey of the surrounding battle.

'Looks like the aurors and the Order are battling it out with the dragons', Hermione commented after having spotted several order members (as well as recognizing the auror uniform) riding on a surprisingly diverse type of mounts harassing a lesser number dragons.

'That's weird', commented Ron. 'The dragons seem to be coordinating between themselves. I've seen groups of dragons with Charlie, and he never mentioned dragons can do that.'

'Ron? Hermione?' Exclaimed an all too familiar voice as a broom rider pulled alongside them.

'Charlie!' Ron yelled excitedly. 'What's going on?'

'Too long. To. Explain. Hogsmeade under. Attack.' Charlie replied, seemingly a bit out of breath. 'Land and floo to Hogwarts. Mom is there right now. Headquarters might be compromised, by the way.'

And before they could request any clarification on the matter, Charlie sped away, a spell already cast towards a particularly fierce looking Welsh Green.

Ron decided that landing was probably the safest thing to do right then, since they have no idea what was happening. But as he slowly descended toward the familiar and seemingly peaceful town, he couldn't help but notice that the dragons were slowly winning the aerial clash. After a particularly nasty exchange where two aurors were shot down from the sky, Ron had made his decision.

'Hermione, I'm going back up', Ron said resolutely as they finally landed next to the Three Broomsticks. 'Charlie is up there.' Ron added, hoping to pre-empt Hermione by giving justification to his decision.

'Ok', Hermione said simply. Then, as if waiting just for the moment Ron started to relax, she added: 'As long as I'm coming with you.'

And, after a short and condensed version of their normal argumentative routine, where everything from Ron's apparently invulnerability to fire and Hermione's growing powers over water, the best defense against fire, were critiqued in detail, they finally took off into the fierce battle overhead.

…………………………..

'Letum ut hostes hostium!' Voldemort hissed out, getting tired of staring down Harry Potter in an impromptu Mexican standoff the two wizards had been engaged in for the past half hour. A gooey, slimy cloud of viscous liquid jetted out from his wand, heading straight at The Boy Who Lived.

Harry stood his ground, his shield firmly in front of him, and promptly cast his own spell toward the dark lord. He had no idea what spell Voldemort just cast, but was confident that he could handle absorbing any spell so long as it wasn't the Killing Curse. Voldemort, having anticipated that Harry would disregard his own safety from their exchange of spells earlier, already had a strong shield in place. What he was not prepared for, however, was how the scorching, arrow tipped beam of light, the power of which was multiplied by several orders of magnitude by the Holy Shard, went straight through his shield and headed straight at him (much later, when historians would analyze this duel in detail, they would conclude, correctly, that the reason how the beam of light so easily defeated the protection cast by arguably the most powerful wizard of the time, was due to the combination of the spell being super powered, and the fact that such a pinpoint attack only need to defeat the protective barrier at a precise point).

In a much undignified action for the usually stoic dark lord, Voldemort dove to the ground in the split second he had to act. But it was far too late, and the dark lord gasped out more in surprise than pain as his entire left arm, from the elbow down, was torn away from him, purified into nothingness by the radiant beam of Harry's counterattack.

For his part, Harry was also caught off guard by the slowness with which his shield was absorbing the slimy liquid. He belatedly realized that so far, all the spells they had cast at his shield for testing were made out of some form of energy or another, and that this was the first time spell-created physical material was cast at his shield. Still, the goo was being absorbed, and it seemed like Voldemort had been badly injured by his attack.

Not wishing to give the dark lord any time to recover, Harry promptly hurled two more hexes at his hated enemy: one taking the shape of a golden disk of light that will cut through anything short of several super powerful shields, and the other, a personal favorite of Harry's, transformed into a ominous cloud, electric blue energies slowly building up for a lightning strike.

At the same time he was casting his spells, Harry heard the now familiar sound of the angel-winged jewels detaching themselves from his shield, having charged enough from the absorbed spells, and, after a brief climb to stabilize their flight, all seven jewels promptly headed toward the dark lord.

Voldemort, having earned his reputation of dark lord honestly and deservingly through lots of evil hard work, assessed his increasingly deteriorating situation in a flash whilst dodging away from Harry's golden disk at the same time. As soon as the disk overshot him, the dark lord promptly raised a magical mirror in front of him a split second before Harry's cloud discharged its deadly attack towards the dark lord. The attack was predictably reflected by the mirror (it's a magic mirror, after all), and not so harmlessly stroke the ceiling instead, dislodging a few bricks. At this time, the seven flying jewels simultaneously discharged jets of now white energy upon Voldemort, who, to Harry's surprise, entirely ignored this latest attack and used this time to summoned two more giant suits of armor, their malevolent green gaze promptly focusing on Harry as they took shape.

Voldemort had gambled on his still functioning shield, the one that had so easily been pierced by Harry's powerful and pinpoint light arrow spell, would be able to handle whatever attack the flying jewels could muster against him. For in his mind, they were too small to pose a significant threat, and were merely flying annoyances designed to distract him. Unfortunately, he lost his gamble, as the simultaneous discharge from all seven jewels hit him at once, and his already stressed shield collapsed under the strain. Voldemort was instantly hit by seven jets of energy, and collapsed to the ground. Belatedly, the two suits of armor moved into the path of the beams to protect their master, and swatted at the flying annoyances in the hopes of destroying them.

Harry mentally commanded his jewels to attack the suits of armor instead, deciding that he'll deal with Voldemort himself. Having made sure that his angel-winged allies were doing well against the two suits of armor, Harry returned his attention toward his eternal nemesis, and realized with a shock that the dark lord was already struggling to get back up, having already succeeded in getting up to his knees.

The dark lord, who, up to now, had his head down due to all the effort he was exerting, suddenly looked up, and locked gaze with Harry. For a brief moment, both opponents were frozen in place, and just as suddenly, burst into action. Unfortunately, Harry was a split second too late, and was blown backwards into a wall from the concussion of Voldemort's blasting hex, his silvery magic shield useless against the torrent of real shrapnel detonated into the air.

Voldemort allowed himself a slight smile, as he had guessed correctly that the accursed little boy's new shield was only effective against magic or things created by magic. With a heavy grunt, he managed to get back to his feet and advanced on his still dazed foe.

At that precise instant, the seven flying jewels from Harry's shield flew back into their nest, their stored energies having been spent. Harry took a quick look at the spot where the two giant suits of armor had been fighting with his winged jewels, and was disheartened to see that one of them had survived the attack, and was even now pacing back to rejoin its master. Lying there, with pieces of rocky shrapnel embedded through out his body, Harry wondered if how the situation could get any worse. True to form, he was overwhelmed with a new sense of hopelessness as he noticed the forearm he had so recently blown off of the dark lord starting to regenerate itself.

'Ah yes. The benefits of having gone through all those dark rituals', Voldemort explained, having followed Harry's gaze. 'Well, Harry Potter, I must say, you have given me quite a worthy battle, you should consider yourself honored to have made me exert so much effort. No wizard could ha…'

'Avada Kedavra!' Harry shouted, having brought up his wand arm to point to the dark lord while the latter was distracted with his ramblings. Unfortunately, much to Harry's confusion, the dark lord started to laugh instead of dropping dead. And it was not the usual maniacal evil cackling that many in his inner circle had come to know either. It was, in fact, a laugh of genuine amusement, which, coming from the dark lord, was all the more scary.

Finally, Harry realized that his wand was broken, having already been snapped when he was blown back by Voldemort's curse. He had, in fact, been pointing a half broken length of stick without even the magical core at the dark lord. No wonder the dark lord was laughing at him.

'I was going to let you live a bit longer', Voldemort hissed after his laughing bout. 'But I see now that my generosity was misplaced. Well… I think for a muggle loving fool like you, a muggle execution is appropriate, wouldn't you say? Tell me Harry, have you ever wondered how it would feel to be torn apart limb by limb?' Voldemort asked almost casually as his remaining giant suit of armor started to advance on Harry, metal gloves extended.

Harry was only half-listening to the pronouncement of his eminent execution. There was something that bothered him about seeing the wand in his hand broken in half. As if there was something fundamentally wrong about it. It felt like he should have been more chagrined by the snapping of his wand, but for some reason, he wasn't.

Suddenly, it clicked. This was not his wand! He had been using the one he found in his family vault all this time, initially to evade ministry detection, and later on because he had gotten so use to it. And with that realization, he promptly unzipped a waist strapped pouch he had been mechanically clipping on for the past weeks. Rummaging through it quickly, he finally dug out his real wand from beneath a pile of chewing gum wrappers. And as he held his true wand once more, he felt a boost of magic rush through his body.

Energized, he eagerly cast the spell to piece together a rock golem from the mountains of rocky debris around him. To his surprise, the golem that took shape was even taller than the giant suit of armor advancing towards him. Harry was a bit taken aback by this sudden jump in power until he remembered that he had been using a wand not suited for him all this time, and that now, with his real wand in hand, his true power can finally shine through.

With a giant crash followed by a horrible screech of bent metals, the giant suit of armor was knocked back, one arm severely bent and seemingly no longer useable. The armor didn't concede defeat so easily, however, and pulled a wicked looking twelve feet long sword from its back with its still useable arm, and charged Harry's rock golem. The golem used one of its rocky arms to block the sword's blow, with the sword biting deep into one of the rocky chunks and getting stuck there. With another punch, the rock golem knocked the giant armor back once more, forcing it to release its grip on the still stuck sword.

Voldemort, who of course had not been idle after seeing Harry's golem, already sent two more blasting hexes Harry's way, aimed a bit in front of the boy instead of directly at him where his silvery shield could absorb the spells. Harry, mean time, had been healing himself with the aid of the Holy Shard's power, and was almost done when he saw the hexes coming. Thinking quickly, Harry dove right in front of the incoming hexes, his magical shield extended, and promptly absorbed both spells.

Not fully recovered from his injuries, Harry almost passed out from the drain on his powers caused by the absorption of the two spells. He shook himself out of his daze just in time to see Voldemort melt down his rock golem with some sickly yellow spell. With Harry getting sluggishly into his combat stance and the dark lord whirling around to face the annoying little boy, the two combatants' wands came to point at each other at nearly the same time. Harry absently noted, with some satisfaction, that his golem had permanently disposed of the remaining giant suit of armor before its own demise.

'You do realize that our brother wands will be locked into a priori incantatem again, don't you?' Voldemort asked conversationally. Harry couldn't help but note that the dark lord's once disintegrated left arm had almost entirely regrown by now.

'Not if I get off a quick hex first!' Harry replied, not taking his eyes off Voldemort's.

For what seemed to Harry like a long moment (but in reality just a blink of an eye's time), he and the dark lord both hesitated on what to do. Then, as if by common agreement, they both erupted into action.

Harry dove to the side, while casting a quick hex towards Voldemort at the same time. Voldemort, despite his earlier injuries, managed to get off the Killing curse a split second too late towards Harry before the electric blue glow of Harry's spell slammed into him, blasting him backwards into the air.

Harry, lying face up on the ground and just out of the way of where Voldemort had pointed his wand, was shocked to see the green light of the Killing curse bend towards him. Too late did he remember that his shield would attract and absorb any spell that came close to its vicinity. With an eerie sluggishness, as if time decided to dilate for this momentous occasion, Harry watched his magical shield suck in the green jet of light of the Killing Curse.

…………………………..

Ron had easily spotted his brother Charlie amongst the swarm of aurors and Order members still buzzing around the dozen dragons attacking Hogsmeade, and promptly headed toward that group. On his way, he took a quick analysis of the situation and, with the sharp mind of a strategist from all the years of chess playing, noticed a trio of dragons was the key to turning the tide of the battle. The said trio was free of any auror harassment, and flew around the battlefield, ambushing the auror and Order members from behind. In addition, Ron noted that every time the trio came close to a group of defenders, the said group promptly scattered disoriented, as if in panic.

As luck would have it, the dragon trio was now headed straight for Charlie's group. Ron put on a burst of speed, and arrived just before the dragons did.

'Charlie! Look out for those dragons to the left! Concentrate your fire on them!' Ron tried to yell toward his brother across a growing wind. This evidently didn't work out too well, as Charlie didn't even bother glancing at the approaching menace, or his own brother.

'Ron! He can't hear you!' Hermione had to practically shout to hear herself.

Ron, seeing his brother in danger and remembering the earlier incident in Bulgaria where he had unexpectedly proven to be immune to fire, wanted to take on the three dragons by himself. But he was also worried about putting Hermione in danger. It was finally Hermione's prompting that decided him.

Ron flew himself and Hermione straight into the dragons' path, and, wand extended, quickly let fly three Incendio spells. The size of his fire balls was so great that it took all three dragons by surprise. The three great wyrms of the sky reflexively dodged in different directions, breaking off from their original attack flight.

Seeing this, Hermione started to feel like they indeed stand a good chance of winning. However, her victorious thoughts were quickly crushed when a familiar cold and fearful sensation swept over her, giving her goose bumps all along her arms. A shiver from behind her informed her that it wasn't just her who felt the chilling effects.

'Ron. Those dragons, they are carrying dementors!' Hermione shouted above the constant wind toward her red-haired friend seating behind her.

'How strong is your patronus?' Ron asked as he let fly a few more flashier but far less harmful fire displays to keep the dementor-strapped dragons at bay.

In response, Hermione concentrated and cast the Patronus charm. Her familiar otter soon started to jump and bounce excitedly around them, as if they were still on the ground.

'Well, phew. I was afraid it was gonna fall, since otters can't fly and all', Ron commented as the cold feeling was replaced by warm, happy sensations.

'Don't be stupid, Ron', Hermione remarked in the know-it-all tone that Ron had become so familiar with over the years. Then, pointing her finger at the advancing dragons, she yelled: 'Charge at them!'

Ron reluctantly complied.

…………………………

Charlie and his group had finally managed to hit the Welsh Green they were cornering with enough spells to bring it down. Turning his head around to survey the situation, he was surprised to see, not far from his own position, a broom with two riders on it charge straight toward three menacing looking dragons, with some kind of small, luminescent creature flying erratically around the riders.

Realizing there was no way in hell those two can win against three dragons, Charlie shook his head in resignation. There was nothing he could do to stop them from being slaughtered, as, even in the best of times, it would take two dozen well trained flyers to take down a group of three dragons. _Probably some poor blokes trying to foolishly avenge their fallen friends_, thought Charlie as he looked at the impending clash with sadness.

Suddenly, a blue globe of what Charlie thought looked like water poured into existence around the riders. And not a moment too soon, as the three dragons decided that was the moment they'd simultaneously shoot their fire at the riders. Large plums of white fog started to form as the dragonfires came into contact with the blue globe. If Charlie didn't know any better, he'd almost thought that the fog was water vapor. When the fog cleared, Charlie was surprised to see the globe still intact, and still heading right at the three dragons. Then, as if commended by some unseen force, ripples of liquid started to concentrate on the surface of the blue globe, and, at the centerpoints of the concentrations, sharp spikes of ice quickly formed. A blink later, the lances of ice streaked towards the still charging dragons, giving them little time to dodge.

Then, the four combatants flew past each other. And to Charlie's amazement, one of the dragons fell from the sky, having taken an ice spear in the wrong place. The other two looped around, some superficial damage visible on their wings from the riders' strike.

The riders also came about, the translucent blue globe of water still about them. Then, a giant opening started to form on the globe's surface. Charlie was puzzled at this until two giant fireballs shot through the opening, and headed toward the now angry dragons. As the fireballs were moving relatively slower than the ice lances of earlier, the two dragons managed to scatter away from their paths. However, as if the riders in the blue globe had planned for this all along, the globe accelerated and caught up with the nearest dragon, and somewhat similar to earlier, a jet of water rippled into existence and shot away from the globe only to impact on one of the dragon's wings. As soon as the contact was made, the water on the targeted wing promptly turned into ice, encasing the dragon wing in pounds of unmovable material. Soon, the dragon could no longer sustain its flight, and also fell from the sky.

…………………………

'Ron… I…tired… can't…' And on those words, Hermione passed out from exhaustion, having used too much of her new found powers in too short a time. At the same time, the protective water bubble around them collapsed, falling like rain toward the ground far below. Ron, one arm holding on to Hermione and the other trying to steer the broom they were both on, had no where near the speed or maneuverability needed to escape from the remaining dragon. With Hermione's patronus now also gone, Ron started to feel the chilling, despair inducing effects of the dementor attached to the dragon once more.

Angling his broom so that he can completely cover Hermione against the remaining dragon's attack, Ron made for his brother Charlie at the best speed he could manage. Behind him, a raging dragon and a hungry dementor was slowly catching up.

And then, the dragon's fire breath was upon him. Ron felt nothing but energized while basking in the fires that would have fried any other wizard to a crisp. The fires raged all around him for almost half a minute before subsiding. Ron quickly checked Hermione, and besides a few loose strands of singed hair, she seemed fine. He just had enough time to pull beside and slightly above Charlie, dump Hermione into his surprised brother's lap, and veer off before the dragon let loose with its fire once more. Had he stayed close to Charlie and Hermione one second more, they would no doubt have been caught in the backlash of the firestorm.

Free from the comforting but realistically encumbering weight of his crush, Ron led the dragon away to a comfortable distance from his brother with a far superior grace. Once he felt he was far enough, he spun around, wand at the ready and charged back at the dragon head on. Knowing he would be overcome by the effects of the dementor sooner or later, Ron simply let loose with a sustained fire spell at the same time the dragon breathed its fire again. The two streaks of fiery flame clashed against each other for a brief moment before Ron's much thicker jet overwhelmed the dragon's and pushed the dragon flame back toward its source. A second later, Ron's spell blasted through the dragon's giant, open maw and came out of the back of the flying wyrm's head. After mechanically flapping its wings for a second longer, the massive body of the once proud beast spasmmed violently and plunged toward the ground below.

By this time, as if sensing the danger presented by this new foe, half a dozen dragons had converged toward Ron and let loose a volley of fire impossible to dodge. Much to a still open mouthed Charlie amazement, Ron did not bother using what precious time he had left before the flames hit to cast a protective spell. Instead, his younger brother simply sat up straighter on his broom and puffed out his chest. And then Charlie's view of his young sibling was blocked by the violent firestorm that had been sent at him. When the flames cleared, Charlie was relieved to see that Ron seemed unscratched (after all, by this point, he was a bit beyond being surprised). Then, as if he was filled with excess energy that he had no idea what to do with, Ron let loose a rapid, crazed volley of fireballs in all directions. The fireballs were poorly aimed and fairly slow, but nevertheless induced enough caution in the attacking dragons to scatter them for a while. With some amusement, Charlie idly thought that his brother should try to learn a few new fire spells.

Almost at the same moment, a monstrous flying object spewed into existence directly above Hogsmeade, much in the same way people arriving by portkeys would have appeared in thin air. Charlie could only guess at what the metallic contraption was, as he did not recognize anything on the now rapidly approaching floating platform. About five times the length of an adult dragon (for Charlie usually measured things in terms of dragons and related items), the… thing was glimmering with protruding metal tubes and steel towers. The contraption's entire bottom half was shaped like a… _Boat?_ Charlie thought with some confusion.

Finally, a voice decided to enlighten Charlie: 'That's a World War II era American destroyer!'

Looking down, Charlie saw that Hermione had woken up, and was staring at the floating warship with awe.

'I… The power that it would take to keep this thing afloat… This is incredible! Can you imagine…'

Charlie stopped paying attention at his young charge at this point, for one of the turrets on the flying warship had swung around and let loose what looked like a concentrated and very strong stunning spell at one of the dragons still harassing his younger brother. The dragon was hit dead on, and promptly fell from the sky.

Seeing this, all the dragons not attacking Ron, and some that were, sent a volley of fire at the new threat. The flying warship was far too slow to dodge the incoming danger, though it would seem that it wasn't making any efforts to do so. After the volley impacted, a few scorch marks could clearly be seen on the armored hull of the metal ship, but overall, it seemed hardly effected. A few more volleys from the airship were let loose, with some more hits and a few misses. It was nevertheless more than enough to convince the attacking force to call it a day.

Charlie let out a sigh of relief as he watched the flight of dragons, now much diminished, turning around and head off into the distance. Nobody on what's left of the aurors and Order members defending the skies of Hogsmeade gave chase.

'Wow… Looks like there's going to be a lot of explanations going all around', Charlie heard the bundle of bushy haired teen in his lap murmur matter-of-factly, with just a hint of understatement.

_No kidding_, Charlie thought sarcastically as he pointed his broom toward the flying warship, his younger brother rapidly approaching from behind him.

………………………

Harry woke with a start. Having momentarily no memory of what happened to him, it took Harry a full minute before he remembered why he had passed out and how he survived the Killing Curse …again. He tried to get up and see what happened to Voldemort, but quickly realized that there was a _slight_ discrepancy between his mental and physical wellbeing. His body felt like it had just gone through 20 of those famed Oliver Wood's Quidditch practices in a row. None of his body parts wanted to move, and even blinking his eyes took some effort (mostly on the reopening segment of the action).

With a supreme demonstration of force of will, Harry managed to turn on his side, giving him a view on what's happening with Voldemort. With a chill down his spine, Harry saw the dark lord, though extremely badly injured from the lightning bolt Harry sent earlier, was slowly but steadily crawling his way toward the now incapacitated Guardian of the shards… and the Shadow Shard that it still holds.

'Reducto…' Harry managed to whisper while feebly pointing his wand at his nemesis in a last ditch attempt to stop the dark lord from getting his hands on the dark jewel. Unfortunately, all that coughed out of his wand was a few wheezing sparks, his magical energy having been drained too the max.

And with one last push, Voldemort's now fully regrown left hand finally landed on the Shadow Shard. Instantly, the dark lord seemed more alive, and managed to get into a sitting position with minimal grunting. 'Now, Harry Potter, you die!' The dark lord hissed as he pointed his wand toward the Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Die. Wasting no more time on speeches that might give the boy a chance at some miracle come back, Voldemort started to hiss the Killing Curse, not knowing that the boy had already survived the Killing Curse he had sent earlier.

Harry was out of ideas. His body felt so weak, and he was so magically exhausted that he couldn't even cast the simplest of spells. With a tremendous effort filled with muscle protests, Harry brought the silvery shield up in desperation.

Just as he was about to finish the incantation that would surely end his supposed rival's life, Voldemort sensed an imminent danger on his right. Having survived more than a few times thanks to his instincts, Voldemort trusted them once again and reflexively rolled left, a move that saved him from being bitten in two. However, his wand arm was not so lucky, and Voldemort found himself once again without the use of an arm.

With something akin to shock, Voldemort instantly recognized the giant creature that had just spit out his wand arm (with wand still clutched). _A great dragon? Here?_ Voldemort thought before realizing that being shocked was not what he should be doing. The dark lord quickly erected a magical shield. Not a moment too soon, for he was instantly engulfed within a fiery bath of liquid flame that had no trouble melting the walls and floor around him.

'I should have known your kind would come!' Voldemort yelled defiantly at the great beast still assailing him. 'You should not have meddled! I'll make su…'

The rest of Voldemort's tirade was cut short as the great dragon blasted apart the ceiling directly above the dark lord, burying him under tons of debris.

Knowing that being buried under tons of rock would probably not hold the most evil dark lord that had also gotten a hold of the Shadow Shard for that long, the great dragon disappeared in a bright flash, and an unclothed young girl rushed into the now totally ruined hall.

'Harry!' Celeste yelled as she rushed to her beloved's side. Already knowing that Harry could not die as long as she was alive, Celeste quickly scanned him for any severe injuries. Finding none, she heaved her beloved onto her back with some effort, for she too, had been weakened severely through the life-force link she shared with her Harry. Carrying the still dazed Harry, Celeste rushed out of the great chamber where the Guardian and the Shards had been kept, and, collapsing several key exits too slow down any potential pursuit, promptly fled as fast as she could towards the surface.

After what seemed like hours, she finally reached the ruined castle where Harry had so recklessly shared and linked his life-force with hers. Thinking back on the happy memory, she glanced down at the once again passed out teen in her arms. Harry had woken up several times during their flight through the mazes of traps, and after an inexplicable (to Celeste) bout of blushing and averting of eyes towards her direction, Harry would insist on being allowed to walk on his own. Harry would then pass out from exhaustion after about five minutes of walk, at which point Celeste would put him once again on her back, and the cycle would restart once more next time Harry woke up.

Knowing that there is no way she could stop Voldemort now that he was in possession of the Shadow Shard, Celeste decided that her immediate course of action should be to get Harry to safety, and then contact her own people for reinforcements. With that decision made, Celeste gently shifted Harry into her arms and, with a running leap, jumped off towards the artificial ocean surrounding Merlin's Island. After a bright flash, the silvery dragon, a dark haired teen clutched gently in its claws, flew up towards the exit near the ceiling of the giant underground cavern.

A fuming dark lord burst out into the open just in time to see the majestic dragon gracefully fading into the sunny lights of the cavern. Contemplating what the entrance of this new foe would mean for his carefully mapped out plans of world domination, the dark lord squeezed the Shadow Shard he held in anger, and, with a grunt, apparated right through the remaining wards of Merlin's Tomb, the power of the Shadow Shard easily overwhelming those of the failing protections'. Shortly after he left, Merlin's Tomb, sensing that its protections had failed, self-destructed spectacularly in a shower of explosions, cumulating with the sinking of the island and the collapse of the entire cavern in which it had rested for so long.

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**A/N:** Lots of **REVIEWS** would go a long way in motivating a faster update!!! So just drop by even just a word or two!  
Too fast? Too short? Too confusing? Be sure to leave your comments in a **REVIEW**!!! Rest assured that more will be explained in the next chapter. 


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